I 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


.  ( , '        > .  .    ( 


MASONIC 


BT  ROB  MORRIS,  LL.  D., 


MASONIC    WRITER. 


Thus  life  and  beauty  come  to  view, 
In  EACH  DESIGN  our  fathers  drew, 

So  glorious  and  sublime ; 
EACH  breathes  an  odor  from  the  blcom 
Of  gardens  bright  beyond  the  tomb, 

Beyond  the  flight  of  time. 


ork: 
ROB    MORRIS,    NO.    545    BROADWAY; 

MACOY  &  SICKELS,  430  BROOME  ST. 
1864. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1S04,  by 
ROB    MORRIS, 

in  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States  for  t'.ie  Southern 
District  of  New  York. 


BAKER  i  GODWIN',  PRINTEBS, 

Printing-House  Square,  opposite  City  Hall, 

NEW  YORK. 


TO 

GEORGE    OLIVER,    D.D., 

OF  SCOPWICS   VICARAGE,    ENGLAND. 


anb   Spirit  cf  gtasouit   UjitnboHsms 

Have  awakened  new  interest  and  inaugurated  a 


THE    BELOVBD 


THE  LAMENTED  SCOTT,  OF  MISSISSIPPI, 

Was  one  of  the  sons  of  your  genius,  and  an  entire  generation  of  Masonic  \ 
has  acknowledged  your  preeminence. 

PERMIT  ONE  OF  THE  HUMBLEST  OF  THE  FAMILY  TO 
LAY  AT  YOUR  FEET  THIS  VOTIVE  WREATH,   • 


612764 

UHURY 


PREFACE. 


SOME  of  these  pieces  have  gone  the  rounds  of  the 
press,  masonic  and  secular,  for  a  considerable  period, 
and  have  attracted  the  favorable  attention  of  the  public. 
Others  have  been  examined  in  manuscript  by  persons 
whose  judgment  in  matters  of  this  kind  is  admittedly 
worthy  of  consideration.  The  author  has  recited  many 
of  them  in  discourses  to  lodges  and  public  assemblies. 
These  authorities  seem  to  concur  in  a  verdict,  and  to 
express  the  wish  that  the  pieces,  as  a  whole,  may  be  pub- 
lished. 

Whatever  predilection  the  author  may  feel  for  his 
literary  offspring,  he  would  not  have  ventured  upon  so 
daring  an  experiment  as  a  volume  of  Masonic  poems 
but  for  these  assurances  of  favor ;  and  if,  after  all,  he 
has  misunderstood  the  general  expression  upon  this  sub- 
ject, he  casts  himself  upon  the  forbearance  of  those  whose 
good  opinion  he  has  so  long  sought  to  propitiate. 

NEW  YORK,  JUNE,  1864. 


CONTENTS. 


PAGB. 

The  Sowing  of  the  Seed 13 

Setting  a  Memorial 15 

The  Level  and  the  Square 17 

The  Goodly  Heritage 19 

Yearnings 20 

King  Solomon's  Farewell 21 

Quarry,  Hill,  and  Temple 24 

Fragrance  of  a  Good  Deed 26 

A  Parting  Hymn 27 

Song  for  St.  John's  Day 28 

The  Obedient  Disciple   29 

Via  Lucis,  Via  Crucis 31 

The  Beacon-Light 32 

Voice  of  the  Temple 33 

Building  the  Fane 33 

Hymn  of  the  Mason-Soldiers 35 

Earnestness  of  Covenanting 36 

T 


8  CONTENTS. 

PAGE. 

The  Fervor  of  Affiliation 37 

The  Enclosure 38 

Masonic  Training 39 

Ask !  Seek ! !  Knock ! ! ! 40 

Masonic  Auld-Lang-Syne 41 

Tears  and  Smiles 42 

Nunc  Dimittis 43 

Lingering  Notes 45 

The  Giving  of  the  Shoe 46 

Inscriptions  for  a  Lodge-Room 47 

The  Pillars  of  the  Porch 48 

Cherishing  the  Pledge 49 

Let  Your  Light  Shine 50 

Brotherly  Love 51 

The  Fire  of  Friendship 52 

"Words  of  Peace  and  Love 53 

The  Pilgrim's  Home 54 

Hymn  for  Consecration, 56 

The  White-aproned  Brothers 57 

Hours  of  Praise 59 

The  Dying  Hope 61 

Ono 62 

Pledge  to  a  Dying  Brother 63 

A  Look  to  the  Orient 65 

Praver — Oral  or  Secret. .                                                          .  66 


CONTENTS.  y 

PAGE. 

The  Song  of  St.  John 67 

Tribute  to  Washington 69 

The  Broken  Column 70 

A  Mason's  Epitaph 71 

Death,  the  Celestial  Gate 72 

Burns'  Farewell .' 74 

The  Crescent 75 

Duties  of  the  Craft 76 

Verdant,  Fragrant,  Enduring 77 

Fredstole :  the  Seat  of  Peace 78 

Ode  for  a  Winter  Festival 79 

The  Quarry  of  Life 80 

The  Cedar  Tree 81 

A  Lodge  Valedictory 82 

Hard  Service,  Good  Wages 83 

Faith  of  the  Olden  Time 85 

The  Resurrection 87 

Consecration  of  a  Cemetery 88 

So  Mote  it  Be 90 

A  Hebrew  Chant 91 

Go  on  thy  Bright  Career 92 

The  Freemasons'  Home 93 

The  Dying  Request 94 

The  All-Seeing  Eye 96 

Appreciation 97 


1U  CONTENTS. 

PAGE. 

Leaning  Towards  Each  Other 98 

The  Hour  of  Eleven 100 

Corn.     Wine.     Oil 102 

Tribute  to  Robert  Burns 104 

The  Foundation  Stone 105 

The  Inheritance  of  Friendship , 106 

To  Masons  Everywhere 108 

A  Masonic  Greeting 110 

The  Happy  Hour. Ill 

The  World-wide  Recognition 112 

The  Widow  and  the  Fatherless 113 

The  Death  of  the  Grand  Master 115 

The  Veteran's  Lament 117 

Washington  119 

The  Three  Salutes 124 

The  Master  of  the  Upright  Heart 125 

Masonic  Valedictory 128 

A  Masonic  Symposium 130 

The  Narrow  Boundary T .  132 

New  Year's  Reflections 133 

Timely  Warning    135 

A  Welcome  into  Masonry 136 

Dividing  the  Tessera 138 

High  Xn 140 

The  Checkered  Pavement. . .                                                     .  141 


CONTENTS.  II 

PAGE. 

The  Focus  of  the  Lodge 143 

The  Decayed  Lodge 144 

The  Duelist 146 

The  Tracing-Board 147 

Fellow  Crafts'  Song 149 

The  Teacher  to  His  Pupils 150 

Tribute  to  a  Friend. 152 

The  Two  Visits 153 

Brother's  Last  Request 155 

A  Festival  Ode 156 

Centennial  Ode 158 

Grave  of  the  Grand  Master 159 

Rise  Up :  He  Calleth  Thee 161 

The  Dark  Decree 162 

The  Pursuit  of  Franklin 163 

Monody  to  the  Hon.  P.  C.  Tucker 166 

Song  and  Freemasonry 167 

The  Funeral  Sound 169 

Crypt  in  the  Corner-Stone ........    170 

Our  Future  Meeting 171 

Emblems  of  the  Craft 172 

Solomon's  Midnight  Visit 174 

The  Spirit  of  Union 176 

The  Orient 178 

The  Passage  of  Time 179 


12  CONTENTS. 

PAGE. 

The  Model  Mason 180 

The  Loving  Tie 181 

The  Hour  Glass 183 

The  Cheerful  Hour  at  High  XH 184 

Knight  Templar's  Dirge 185 

The  Test 186 

A  Dedication 188 

Lines  to  Lexington  Lodge 189 

Walking  Together 190 

Exhortation  to  Charity 191 

The  Temple 192 

The  Wise  Choice  of  Solomon 195 

The  Celestial  Record 197 

The  Perfect  Ashlars 198 

The  Last,  Last  Word  . .  .199 


MASONIC  ODES  AND  POEMS. 


J5>jofoin0  of  % 


We  are  exhorted,  in  that  Volume  about  which  an  OBLONG  SQUARE 
is  formed  in  a  Masonic  Lodge,  "to  sow  beside  all  waters."  In  a 
lodge  of  Freemasons,  no  more  than  in  any  other  society,  is  there 
perfect  sameness  in  sentiment  and  choice.  While  similarity  in 
physical,  mental,  and  moral  qualifications  is  needful  in  the  construc- 
tion of  our  social  edifice,  there  are  diversities  of  character  sufficiently 
marked  among  us  to  justify  the  poet  in  offering  the  following  para- 
phrase of  Luke  viii.  5-8,  as  his  Salutatory  : 

He  that  hath  ears  to  hear, 

May  listen  now, 

While  I  shall  tell,  in  mystic  words  indeed, 
Of  a  good  husbandman  who  took  his  seed 
And  went  to  sow. 

Some  by  the  wayside  fell; 

On  breezes  borne, 

The  fowls  of  air  flew  down,  a  greedy  train, 
And  snatched  with  hasty  appetite  the  grain, 

Till  all  was  gone. 


14  THE      SOWING      OF      TUB      SEED. 

Some  fell  upon  a  rock  ; 

And  greenly  soon, 

They  sprouted  as  for  harvest,  strong  and  fair ; 
But  when  the  summer  sun  shone  hotly  there, 

They  wilted  down. 

Some  fell  among  the  thorns — 

A  fertile  soil — 

But  ere  the  grain  could  raise  its  timid  head, 
Luxuriantly  the  accursed  plants  o'erspread, 

And  choked  them  all. 

But  some  in  the  good  ground — 

God's  precious  mould — 

Where  sun,  breeze,  dew,  and  showers  apportioned  well 
And  in  the  harvest,  smiling  swains  could  tell 

THEIR  HUNDRED  FOLD  ! 


Following  the  ancient  example,  we  would  disseminate  the  thoughts 
with  which  we  are  charged  in  every  part  of  the  mystic  work,  in  quarry, 
hill,  and  temple  ;  among  the  tall  cedars  ;  upon  the  floats ;  upon  the 
road  from  Joppa  to  Jerusalem  ;  in  the  crypts  of  the  Holy  Mountain, — 
wherever,  for  moral  and  sacred  purposes,  the  MASTER  wields  his  Gavel 
or  the  WORKMEN  prepare  sound  blocks  and  set  them  duly  in  place. 


Setting 


A  MEMORIAL  is  that  which  preserves  the  memory  of  a  persoa,  place, 
or  event.  In  olden  times,  a  pillar,  a  heap  of  stones,  or  a  mound  was 
raised  by  contracting  parties  to  perpetuate  friendships.  The  ancient 
landmarks  of  Masonry,  morally  considered,  are  MEMORIALS  of  the 
boundary  lines  set  up  by  the  Royal  Originator  of  the  great  Insti- 
tution. 

The  objects  most  appropriate  for  MEMORIALS  between  Masons,  are 
the  TESSERA  (of  which  something  will  be  said  hereafter)  and  the  EVER- 
GREEN SPRIG,  the  subject  of  the  present  lines.  The  latter  is  more  em- 
blematical than  the  former,  as  referring  more  directly  to  events  that 
formed  part  of  the  Initiatory  services  of  Masonry,  and  were  indelibly 
engraven  upon  the  candidate's  heart.  The  EVERGREEN  SPRIG  repre- 
sents the  SPRIG  OF  ACACIA,  an  oriental  plant  with  oriental  allusions  ex- 
plained best  in  the  esoteric  traditions  of  Masonry 

The  instructed  mind  fastens  upon  this  emblem.  It  is  equally 
grateful  in  fragrance  as  in  verdure,  and  it  long  resists  the  power 
of  decay.  The  lessons  it  imparts,  as  it  falls  from  the  brotherly  hand 
into  the  open  grave,  are  full  of  pathos  and  solemnity.  For  ages 
it  has  been  wet  with  the  tears  of  mourners  as  it  mingled  with  the 
fresh  sods  of  mother-earth  upon  the  coffin  of  the  departed  friend,  until 
it  seems,  to  the  fanciful  ear,  to  whisper  from  its  native  bough  the  song 
of  faith  undying,  and  of  perfect  love. 


We'll  set  a  green  sprig  here  to-night, 

To  rescue,  from  the  days  to  come, 
Each  bright  and  joyous  memory, 

That  henceforth  gilds  this  festive  room ; 
And  should  occasion  e'er  require 

A  token,  to  recall  the  place, 
THESE  LEAVES  will  bring  to  clearest  view, 

The  cheerful  thought  and  sunny  face. 


16  SETTING      A      MEMORIAL. 

We'll  set  a  green  and  deathless  sprig — 

Each  leaf  a  BROTHER'S  NAME  shall  have; 
And  fragrant  will  th'  Acacia  bloom 

When  one  has  parted  to  the  grave : 
When  one  in  Temple-labors  fails, 

And  golden  bowl  is  broken  quite, 
How  grateful  to  the  sense  will  be 

The  green  sprig  that  we  set  to-night ! 

We'll  set  the  sprig  with  every  hand — 

Come  round,  and  plant  the  deathless  tree ! 
There  is  not  one  in  all  this  band, 

But  what  is  marked  by  destiny ; 
Death  comes  to  all — how  well  to  know 

There  is  a  life  beyond  this  scene, 
Whose  deathless  limit  may  be  read, 

Oh  Brothers,  in  this  sacred  green ! 

We'll  set  the  green  sprig  deep  in  love ; 

We'll  water  it  with  sympathy ; 
We'll  give  it  fond  and  faithful  care, 

Nor  shall  a  single  leaflet  die ; 
And  when  the  last  of  this  true  band, 

Death's  mighty  puissance  shall  attest, 
May  those  who  follow  after  say, 

FAITHFUL  AND  TRUE,  HOW  SWEET  THEY  REST  ! 


mib  %  Square, 


These  lines,  written  in  the  summer  of  1854,  have  acquired  a  popu- 
larity equaled,  perhaps,  by  no  similar  production,  since  the  "  Fare- 
well "  of  Robert  Burns,  whose  pathetic  words : 

"  Adieu !  a  heart-warm  fond  adieu, 
Dear  brothers  of  the  mystic  tie," 

have  opened  the  fountain  of  tears  in  three  generations  of  Freemasons. 
Set  to  no  less  than  ten  distinct  melodies,  several  of  them  original,  and 
of  rare  merit,  "  The  Level  and  the  Square  "  is  sung  at  LABOR  and  at 
REFRESHMENT,  upon  the  journey,  at  the  grave's  side,  in  the  domestic 
circle,  and  wherever  else  Freemasons  congregate  to  do  Masons'  work 
or  to  enjoy  Masons'  wages. 

The  writer  is  not  so  presumptuous  as  to  attribute  this  great  favor 
to  the  merit  of  the  lines  themselves,  but  rather  to  the  theory  which 
they  present  of  the  relation  which  the  EARTHLY  bears  to  the  HEAVENLY 
LODGE.  This  theory  accords  with  the  general  view  entertained  of 
Masonry  through  all  the  historic  period,  at  least. 


We  meet  UPON  THE  LEVEL  and  we  part  UPON  THE  SQUARE  ; 
What  words  of  precious  meaning  those  words  Masonic  are ! 
Come,  let  us  contemplate  them,  they  are  worthy  of  a  thought — 
In  the  very  soul  of  Masonry  those  precious  words  are  wrought. 

We  meet  UPON  THE  LEVEL,  though  from  every  station  come — 
The  rich  man  from  his  mansion,  and  the  poor  man  from  his 

home; 

For  the  one  must  leave  his  heritage  outside  the  Mason's  door, 
While  the  other  finds  his  best  respect  upon  the  CHECKERED 

FLOOR. 

IT 


18        THE   LEVEL   AND   THE   SQUAKE. 

We  part  UPON  THE  SQUARE,  for  the  world  must  have  its  due ; 
We  mingle  with  the  multitude,  a  faithful  band  and  true  ; 
But  the  influence  of  our  gatherings  in  memory  is  green, 
And  we  long  UPON  THE  LEVEL  to  renew  the  happy  scene. 

There's  a  World  where  all  are  equal,  we  are  hurrying  towards  it 

fast; 
We  shall  meet  UPON  THE  LEVEL  there,  when  the  gates  of  death 

are  past ; 

We  shall  stand  before  the  ORIENT,  and  OUR  MASTER  will  be  there 
To  try  the  blocks  we  offer  WITH  HIS  OWN  UNERRING  SQUARE. 

We  shall  meet  UPON  THE  LEVEL  there,  but  never  thence  depart ; 
There's   a  MANSION — 'tis  all  ready  for  each  trusting,  faithful 

heart— 

There's  a  MANSION  and  a  WELCOME,  and  a  multitude  is  there, 
Who  have  met  UPON  THE  LEVEL  and  been  tried  UPON  THE 

SQUARE. 

Let  us  meet  UPON  THE  LEVEL  then,  while  laboring  patient  here ; 
Let  us  meet  and  let  us  labor,  though  the  labor  be  severe  ; 
Already  in  the  WESTERN  SKY  the  signs  bid  us  prepare 
To  gather  up  our  WORKING  TOOLS,  and  part  UPON  THE  SQUARE  ! 

Hands  round,  ye  faithful  Masons,  in  the  bright,  FRATERNAL 

CHAIN! 

We  part  UPON  THE  SQUARE  below,  to  meet  in  HEAVEN  again ; 
Oh !  what  words  of  precious  meaning  those  words  Masonic  are, 
We  meet  UPON  THE  LEVEL  and  we  part  UPON  THE  SQUARE  ! 


The  Psalmist,  expressing  the  hope  of  his  calling,  of  the  resurrection, 
and  of  life  everlasting,  cries  aloud,  in  an  ecstacy  of  gratitude,  "  The 
lines  have  fallen  unto  me  in  pleasant  places ;  yea,  I  have  A  GOODLY 
HERITAGE  ;"  and  afterwards,  in  recounting  his  former  experience,  he 
confesses  that  God  has  heard  his  vows  and  has  given  him  the  HERIT- 
AGE of  those  that  fear  His  name. 

Oh  what  a  goodly  heritage 

THE  LORD  to  us  hath  given  ! 
How  blest  the  brotherhood  that  pledge 

Their  Mason- vows  to  heaven  ! 
"We  sing  the  mystic-chain  that  binds 

These  western  realms  in  one ; 
Such  loving  hearts,  such  liberal  minds, 

No  other  land  has  known. 

Five  thousand  lights  in  Mason-halls, 

Are  gleaming  on  our  eyes ; 
Five  thousand  emblems  on  the  walls, 

Tell  whence  the  gleaming  is ; 
And  when  the  portals  ope,  to  pass 

The  humble  seeker  in, 
THE  VOICE  OF  PRAYER  pervades  the  place, 

And  proves  the  light  DIVINE  ! 

On  every  hill  our  brothers  lie, 

And  green  sprigs  deck  the  knoll ; 
Their  fall  brought  sorrow  to  the  eye, 

But  triumph  to  the  soul : 


20  YEARNINGS. 

Our  orphans  lighten  many  a  home, 
Our  widows'  hearts  are  glad, 

And  Mason-light  dispels  the  gloom 
And  comfort  finds  the  sad. 

Thus  link  in  link,  from  shore  to  shore, 

The  mystic  chain  is  wound ; 
Oh,  blended  thus  forever  more, 

Be  Mason-spirits  found ! 
And  while  the  heavens,  on  pillars  sure, 

Of  STRENGTH  and  WISDOM  stand, 
May  brotherhood  like  ours  endure, 

Where  Strength  and  Wisdom  blend  I 


Brothers,  when  o'er  my  head, 

The  silent  dust  is  spread, 
And  this  poor  heart  its  quiverings  shall  forbear, 

Where'er  my  body  lie, 

Though  far  the  grave  away, 
I  would,  dear  Brothers,  be  remembered  "here  ! 

Brothers,  when  tender  sighs 

Around  me  shall  arise, 
And  speak  of  what  I  did,  or  fain  would  do, 

Such  honest,  truthful  words, 

As  Masons'  tongue  affords, 
I  would,  dear  Brothers,  have  rehearsed  by  you  /,. 


's     rofaiell. 


It  is  not  difficult  to  conceive  what  the  parting  words  of  Solomon  to 
his  Temple-builders  must  have  been,  nor  is  it  strange  if  tradition  has 
preserved  it,  in  the  main,  faithfully. 

The  original  FLAX  upon  which  the  architects  drafted,  was  given, 
we  are  informed,  "  in  writing  by  the  Spirit,"  to  King  David,  and  by 
him  transferred  to  his  son.  This  gave  the  stamp  of  DIVINITY  to  the 
structure.  All  the  after-plans,  secondary  to  the  original,  were  neces- 
sarily in  accordance  with  it ;  so  that  the  Royal  Builder  might  well  ad- 
vise his  workmen  in  the  spirit  of  the  following  lines : 


King  Solomon  sat  in  his  ivory  chair, 
His  chair  on  a  platform  high., 

And  his  words  addressed, 

Through  the  listening  "West, 
To  a  Band  of  Brothers  nigh ; 

Through,  the  West  and  South, 

These  words  of  truth, 
To  a  Band  of  Brothers  nigh. 


"  Ye  Builders  go !  ye  have  done  your  work — 
The  CAPSTONE  standeth  sure ; 

From  the  lowermost  block, 

To  the  loftiest  rock, 
The  FABRIC  is  secure ; 

From  the  Arch's  Swell, 

To  the  Pinnacle, 
The  FABRIC  is  secure. 

21 


22  KIXG    SOLOMON'S    FAREWELL. 

"  Go,  crowned  with  fame !  old  time  will  pass,. 
And  many  a  change  will  bring, 

But  the  DEED  you've  done, 

The  circling  sun 
Through  every  land  will  sing ; 

The  moon  and  stars, 

While  earth  endures, 
Through  every  land  will  sing. 

"  Go  build  like  this !  from  the  quarries  vast, 
The  precious  stones  reveal ; 

There's  many  a  block 

In  the  matrice  rock, 
Will  honor  your  fabrics  well ; 

There's  many  a  beam, 

By  the  mountain-stream, 
Will  honor  your  fabrics  well. 

"  Go  build  like  this !  strike  off  with  skill,. 
Each  superfluity ; 
With  critic  eye, 
Each  fault  espy, 

Be  ZEALOUS,  FERVENT,  FREE  ; 

By  the  perfect  SQUARE, 
Your  work  prepare — 

Be  ZEALOUS,  FERVENT,  FREE. 


KING    SOLOMON'S    FAREWELL.  23 

"  Go  build  like  this !  to  a  fitting  place, 
Rear  up  the  ASHLARS  true ; 

On  the  Trestleboard 

Of  your  Master's  LORD, 
The  GRAND  INTENTION  view ; 

In  each  mystic  line, 

Of  the  vast  DESIGN, 
The  GRAND  INTENTION  view. 


'  Go  build  like  this !  and  when  exact, 
The  joinings  scarce  appear, 

With  the  Trowel's  aid, 

Such  cement  spread, 
As  time  can  never  wear ; 

Lay  thickly  round, 

Such  wise  compound, 
As  time  can  never  wear. 

;  Go,  Brothers !  thus  enjoined,  farewell ! 
Spread  o'er  the  darkened  West ; 

Illume  each  clime, 

With  ART  sublime, 
The  noblest  truths  attest ; 

Be  MASTERS  now, 

And  as  you  go, 
The  noblest  truths  attest !" 


,  |ptll,  anfr 

The  well-known  expression  in  the  caption  suggests,  iii  the  symboli- 
>cal  language  of  Freemasonry,  those  various  departments  of  mystical 
Tabor  in  which  the  speculative  craftsmen  are  employed.  To  declare 
one's  attachment  to  his  friend,  "  in  quarry,  hill,  and  temple,"  is  to 
confess  a  friendship  independent  of  time,  place,  and  circumstances. 
The  ties  of  Masonry,  accepted  in  the  presence  of  DEITY  and  under  the 
Divine  sanction,  are  of  this  nature,  and,  in  a  good  man's  heart,  indis- 
soluble. 

Thine  in  the  Quarry,  whence  the  stone 
For  mystic  workmanship  is  drawn : 

On  Jordan's  shore, 

By  Zarthan's  plain, 
Though  faint  and  weary,  thine  alone. 
The  gloomy  mine  knows  not  a  ray — 
The  heavy  toil  exhausts  the  day — 

But  love  keeps  bright 

The  weary  heart, 
And  sings,  Pm  thine  without  decay. 

Thine  on  the  Hill  whose  cedars  rear 
Their  perfect  forms  and  foliage  fair : 

Each  graceful  shaft 

And  deathless  leaf, 
Of  Masons'  love  the  emblems  are. 
Thine  when  a  smile  pervades  the  heaven — 
Thine  when  the  sky 's  with  thunder  riven — 

Each  echo  swells 

Through  answering  hills, 
My  Mason  prayer,  for  thee  "'tis  given. 

24 


QUARRY,      HILL      AND      TEMPLE.  25 

Thine  in  the  Temple,  holy  place — 
Where  silence  reigns,  the  type  of  peace ; 

With  grip  and  sign, 

And  mystic  line, 
My  Mason's  love  I  do  confess. 
Each  block  we  raise,  that  friendship  grows, 
Cemented  firmly  ne'er  to  loose ; 

And  when  complete, 

The  work  we  greet, 
Thine  in  the  joy  my  bosom  knows. 

Thine  at  the  midnight  in  the  caw — 
Thine  in  the  floats  upon  the  wave — 

By  Joppa's  hill, 

By  Kedron's  rill, 

And  thine  when  Sabbath  rest  we  have. 
Yes,  yes,  dear  friend,  my  spirit  saith, 
J'm  thine  until  and  after  death  ! 

No  bounds  control 

The  Mason's  soul 
Cemented  with  a  Mason's  faith  I 


oi  %  600fr     tetr. 


Many  years  since,  a  poor  sojourner  through  the  wilds  of  Texas 
paused  at  a  farmhouse  on  the  lonely  banks  of  the  Brazos,  to  die. 
The  owner,  a  Freemason,  discovered  the  Masonic  claims  of  his  guest 
not  too  late  to  make  the  mystic  tie  available.  All  the  consolations  of 
brotherly  sympathy  and  attendance  were  freely  bestowed  upon  him, 
and  when  these  could  avail  the  pilgrim  no  longer,  his  remains  were 
tenderly  consigned  to  maternal  earth,  the  generous  planter  reading 
the  Masonic  service  and  covering  in  the  precious  dust,  alone  1 

Long  years  afterwards,  and  when  a  populous  village  had  sprung 
up  upon  the  river  banks,  a  Masonic  lodge  was  established  there.  The 
hall  was  built,  and  the  Mount  Moriah  upon  which  it  was  erected  was 
the  green  knoll  beneath  which  the  stranger's  bones  are  mouldering ! 
Moreton  Lodge,  No.  72,  at  Richmond,  Texas,  yet  (1855)  stands  to  per- 
petuate "  the  fragrance  of  a  good  deed  !" 


On  hallowed  ground  those  walls  are  reared ; 

That  roof  encloses  in 
A  spot  to  Masonry  endeared, 

To  Zion's  Mount,  akin ; 
Since  Zion's  Temple  is  bereft 

And  Judah  mourns  his  God, 
No  holier  site  on  earth  is  left, 

Than  this  our  feet  have  trod. 


For  here,  inspired  by  truest  faith, 
Belief  a  Brother  gave — 

Upheld  a  wanderer  unto  death 
And  blessed  him  with  a  grave  : 


A      PARTING      HYMN.  27 

Aye,  with  a  grave  whose  portals  closed 

To  that  majestic  song, 
Which  has  to  the  fraternal  host, 

Brought  deathless  hopes  so  long. 

The  EYE  DIVINE  approved  the  deed — 

'Tis  graven  as  with  steel ; 
And  when  the  noble  act  we  read 

This  fond  desire  we  feel, — 
That  all  our  mystic  work  and  word 

Thus  modeled  well  may  be, 
And  so  the  Temple  of  our  God 

Rise  fast  and  gloriously  ! 


parting 


Refreshed  with  angels'  food  we  go, 
To  serve  Thee  in  thy  work  below  ; 
Trusting,  when  Sabbath-rest  is  given, 
To  share  Thy  richer  joys  in  Heaven. 

Then,  bind  our  willing  souls  in  one  ; 
Confirm  the  COVENANTS  here  begun  ; 
Each  day  those  vows  more  sacred  be, 
Cemented  in  eternity. 


for  Si.  |0^n's  gag. 

These  lines  have  been  set  to  music  by  Professor  Henry  Tucker,  of  New  York. 

Ended  now  the  Masons'  labors, 
Past  the  travel  and  the  toil ; 
Gather  in  ye  loving  neighbors, 
Share  the  Corn,  the  Wine,  the  Oil : 
Brethren  now,  of  each  degree, 
Come  in  harmony  and  glee ; 
Happy  meeting, 
Gentle  greeting, — 
Tis  the  joy  of  Masonry. 

Spirits  of  the  blest  departed, 

As  on  earthly  ways  they  roam, 

Where  are  met  the  faithful-hearted, 

They  to  share  our  labors  come ; 
Though  their  forms  we  cannot  see 
They  are  here  with  you  and  me. 

Love  unites  us  with  its  cement ; 
Truth  inspires  the  Masons'  breast ; 
Ever  faithful,  ever  clement, — 
Thus  our  doctrines  we  attest. 
Thus  we  come  of  each  degree, 
Come  in  harmony  and  glee ; 
Happy  meeting, 
Gentle  greeting, — 
'Tis  the  joy  of  Masonry. 


(DKebienl  gjistiple. 


The  ancient  historian,  Jamblichus,  describes  with  unction,  the  cir- 
cumstance that  forms  the  basis  of  the  following  piece. 

The  two  travelers,  therein  named,  were  disciples  of  Pythagoras, 
whose  system  of  secret  affiliation,  if  it  was  not  FREEMASONRY,  at  least 
exhibited  the  benevolent  features  which  make  up  so  large  a  part  of  it. 


A  Brother,  bound  for  distant  lands, 

In  sickness  fell  alone,  alone ; 
And  stranger  care  from  stranger  hands, 

Did  the  last  rites  of  nature  own. 
But  ere  the  trembling  spirit  passed, 
He  on  a  Tablet  faintly  traced— 

Some  mystic  lines — a  spiral  Thread — 
A  Square — an  emblem  of  the  Sun — 

A  Chequered  Band,  that  none  could  read- 
And  then  his  work  and  life  were  done. 

And  stranger  care  from  stranger  hands, 

Gave  him  kind  burial  in  the  sands. 


Full  many  a  year  swept  by,  swept  by, 
And  the  poor  stranger  was  forgot ; 

While  on  an  olive  column,  nigh, 

That  Tablet  marked  his  burial  spot ; 

And  many  gazed  at  Square  and  Thread, 

And  many  guessed,  but  none  could  read. 


30  THE      OBEDIENT      DISCIPLE. 

But  then  a  sage  Disciple  came, 
Of  one  whose  -wisdom  filled  the  land — 

Himself  right  worthy  of  the  name — 
The  thoughtful  head  and  ready  hand  : 

He  looked  upon  the  mystic  lines, 

And  read  the  Tablet1 8 full  designs. 

It  spoke  of  one  long  passed  before, 
In  quest  of  truth,  like  him  sincere ; 

Of  one  gone  onward,  never  more 
To  delve  in  mines  deep  hidden  here ; 

And  solemn  was  the  lesson  traced — 

Lo  Pilgrim  !  "'tis  your  fate  at  last ! 

Awe-struck,  yet  wiser  now,  he  strayed 
In  solemn  silence  from  the  spot ; 

Repaid  the  debt  his  brother  made, 

And  Eastward  journeyed  on  his  lot ; 

Yet  never  on  life's  shifting  wave, 

Lost  he  the  lesson  of  that  grave. 

How  weighty  is  the  charge  we  give, 
Brethren,  in  this  short  history  read — 

To  Uess  the  living  while  we  live, 
And  leave  some  tokens  when  we're  dead  1 

On  life's  broad  Tablet  let  us  trace 
Emblems  to  mark  our  burial-place ! 


"  The  way  of  light  is  the  way  of  the  Cross,"  is  one  of  those  an- 
cient maxims  which  both  in  rhythm  and  reason  commends  itself  to  the 
favor  of  every  reader.  The  entire  System  of  Freemasonry  is  an  illus- 
tration of  it. 


How  sad  to  the  Grate  are  our  feet  slowly  tending, 

The  cold  form  of  one  whom  we  loved,  on  the  bier ! 
What  sighs  swell  our  hearts  while  above  him  we're  bending, 

And  shudder  to  think  we  must  part  with  him  here ! 
Ah,  gloomy  is  life  when  our  friend  has  departed ! 

Ah,  weary  the  pathway  to  travel  alone ! 
There's  little  remaineth  to  cheer  the  lone-hearted 

Oppressed  with  the  burden,  "  the  loved  one  is  gone !" 

But  glad  from  the  Grave  are  our  feet  homeward  tending, 

Though  death's  cold  embraces  our  Brother  restrain ! 
Hope  springs  from  the  hillock  above  which  we're  bending, 

And  whispers  "  Rejoice !  you  shall  meet  him  again ! 
Death's  midnight  is  sad,  but  there  cometh  the  morning ; 

The  pathway  is  dark  but  its  ending  is  nigh." 
Then  patient  we  wait  till  the  glorious  dawning, 

That's  told  in  our  emblems  of  life  in  the  sky  ! 


tTbe 


A  city  set  upon  a  hill, 

Cannot  be  hid; 
Exposed  to  every  eye,  it  will, 
Over  surrounding  plain  and  vale, 

An  influence  shed, 
And  spread  the  light  of  peace  afar, 
Or  blight  the  land  with  horrid  war. 

Each  Masons'  lodge  is  planted  so, 

For  high  display  ; 
Each  is  a  BEACON-LIGHT,  to  show 
Life's  weary  wanderers,  as  they  go, 

The  better  way  ; 
To  show  by  ties  of  earthly  love, 
How  perfect  is  the  Lodge  above  I 

Be  this  your  willing  task,  dear  friends, 

While  laboring  here  ; 
Borrow  from  Him  who  kindly  lends, 
The  HEAVENLY  LADDER  that  ascends 

The  higher  sphere  ; 
And  let  the  world  your  progress  see, 
Upward,  by  FAITH,  HOPE,  CHARITY. 


,of 


The  Voice  of  the  Temple !  the  tidings  of  Love, 
That  speaks  of  the  MASTEK  who  reigneth  above ; 
"  His  GLORY,  His  GLORY,  in  the  Highest  who  dwells, 
And  GOOD-WILL  TO  MAN"  is  the  burden  it  tells  ! 

Come  Brothers,  in  chorus 

Prolong  the  glad  tidings, 
No  duty  so  sweet  as  the  hymning  of  God : 

His  faith  each  professing, 

His  knowledge  possessing, 
Exalt  each  the  blessing  His  grace  hath  bestowed. 


The  cry  of  Nehemiah,  when,  on  his  return  to  Jerusalem,  he  saw 
the  ROYAL  CITY  lying  "  heaps  upon  heaps,"  has,  in  every  age,  echoed 
upon  the  heart  of  the  moral  builder.  Oh,  the  world  in  ruins  !  oh,  the 
wrecks  of  humanity,  lying  about  us  on  every  hand,  and  crying  aloud 
for  the  MASTER  BUILDER,  who  alone  can  reconstruct  the  edifice  so  fear- 
fully cast  down  ! 

Come,  Comrades,  let  us  build !  * 

Our  Mason-hearts  are  filled 
With  fond  solicitude  and  keen  desire,  t 

While  musing  o'er  these  heaps, 

Whose  every  ashlar  keeps 
The  stains  of  bloodshed  and  the  marks  of  fire !  f 


34  BUILDING      THE      FANE. 

What  though  some  voice  would  say 
"Leave  Salem  to  decay!"  § 

Our  Mason-hearts  were  not  instructed  thus : 
Let's  work  for  Salem's  Lord, — 
And,  Comrades,  be  assured 

The  God  of  Heaven,  HE  will  prosper  us !  J 

With  goodly  SWORD  and  bright, 

With  TROWEL  in  the  right, 
Each  hand  is  sanctified  to  God's  employ :  IT 

Leffs  build,  nor  doubt  that  soon — 

This  weary  labor  done — 
Our  Mason-hearts  will  feel  the  BUILDER'S  joy ! 


*  Come  and  let  us  build  up  the  wall  of  Jerusalem,  that  we  be  no  more  a  reproach, 
-Nehemiah,  ii.,  IT. 

1 1  sat  down  and  wept,  and  mourned,  and  fasted,  and  prayed. — Nehemiah,  i.,  4. 

J  They  slew  with  the  sword  young  man  and  maiden,  old  man,  and  him  that 
stooped  for  age,  and  they  burnt  the  house  of  God  and  all  the  palaces  with  fire. — 
2  Chronicles  xxxvi.,  17, 18. 

§  Sanballat  and  Tobiah  and  Geshem  laughed  us  to  scorn,  and  despised  us  and 
said,  What  is  this  thing  that  ye  do  1—Nehemiah,  ii.,  19. 

1 1  answered  and  said  unto  them,  "  The  God  of  Heaven,  He  will  prosper  us, 
therefore,  we  His  servants  will  arise  and  build." — Nehemiah,  ii.,  20. 

1  Every  one  with  one  of  his  hands  wrought  in  the  work,  and  with  the  other  hand 
held  a  weapon.— Nehemlah,  iv.,  17. 

**  They  sang  together  by  course  in  praising  and  giving  thanks,  and  all  the  people 
shotted  with  a  great  shout,  because  the  foundation  of  the  house  of  the  Lord  was 
laid.— Ezra,  iii.,  11. 


0f 


In  camp,  hospital,  and  on  the  march,  the  "  Friends  of  the  Square  " 
in  the  Union  armies,  were  wont,  during  the  campaigns  of  the  fall  and 
winter  of  1863,  to  enliven  the  sad  hours  by  singing  this  "  Hymn  of 
the  Mason-Soldiers,"  as  arranged  to  Professor  Henry  Tucker's  izn- 
equaled  melody,  "  When  this  Cruel  "War  is  Over." 

Brothers,  met  from  every  nation, 

Far  away  from  home, 
Men  of  every  rank  and  station, 

Round  this  altar  come. 
Bring  your  hearts,  so  full  of  feeling  ; 

Join  your  hands,  so  true  ; 
Swear,  ye  sons  of  truth  and  honor, 

Naught  shall  sever  you. 
Chorus.  —  War's  dark  cloud  will  vanish  — 
Joy  to  EAST  and  WEST  , 

Oh,  Brothers  ! 

Though  the  land  is  full  of  weeping, 
Masons,  Masons  still  are  blest. 

Come,  forgetting  every  sorrow, 

LEVEL  bring  and  SQUARE  ; 
Leave  all  trouble  to  to-morrow  ; 

Each  the  COMPASS  bear  , 
Pass  the  TKOWEL  o'er  each  discord  ; 

Wear  the  LAMBSKIN  white  ; 
Brothers,  one  more  happy  meeting, 

In  our  Lodge  to-night. 


EARNESTNESS      OF      COVENANTING. 

In  the  circle  here  extended, 

Shadowy  forms  appear ; 
With  our  loving  spirits  blended, 

Dead  ones,  ah,  how  dear ! 
Dead  on  many  a  field  of  battle, 

Lost  to  friends  and  home, 
Yet  in  Mason's  love  surviving, 

Round  this  altar  come. 

When  to  distant  homes  returning, 

We  shall  say  farewell, 
And  shall  cease  the  tender  yearning, 

Now  our  bosoms  feel — 
Prattling  lips  and  sweet  caresses, 

All  the  joys  of  home, 
Will  bring  back  the  loving  circle, 

Round  this  altar  come. 


Never  will  I  break  the  Covenant, 

Plighted,  Brother,  with  thee  now  ! 
ONE  between  us  stands,  attesting 

To  the  fervor  of  my  vow : 
In  his  name,  above  his  Promise, 

By  his  honor,  for  his  cause, 
Here's  my  hand,  the  Lord  confirm  it, — 

I  will  surely  keep  my  vows ! 


The  privilege  of  association  in  a  harmonious,  strongly-cemented 
band  of  Masons,  is  a  thing  to  be  coveted.  Exiles  from  home,  deprived 
of  the  long-accustomed  pleasures  of  the  lodge,  have  been  known  to 
express  their  yearnings  for  re-affiliation  in  language  not  less  forcible 
than  this.  In  the  military  camps,  these  lines  sung  to  the  common 
air  "  A  Life  on  the  Ocean  Wave,"  are  very  popular. 

A  place  in  the  Lodge  for  me, 
A  home  with  the  free  and  bright, 
Where  jarring  chords  agree, 
And  the  darkest  soul  is  light : 
Not  here,  not  here  is  bliss, 
There's  turmoil  and  there's  gloom; 
My  spirit  yearns  for  peace — 
Say,  Brothers,  say,  is  there  room  ! 

My  feet  are  weary  worn, 

And  my  eyes  are  dim  with  tears ; 

This  world  is  all  forlorn, 

A  wilderness  of  fears ; 

But  there's  one  green  spot  below, 

There's  a  resting  place,  a  home, 

My  spirit  yearns  to  know — 

Say,  Brothers,  say,  is  there  room ! 

I  hear  the  orphan's  cry, 
And  I  see  the  widow's  tear ; 
I  weep  when  mortals  die, 
And  none  but  God  is  near ; 


THE      ENCLOSURE. 

From  sorrow  and  despair, 
I  seek  the  Mason's  home, 
My  spirit  yearns  to  share — 
Say,  Brothers,  say,  is  there  room ! 

With  God's  own  eye  above, 
With  BROTHER-HANDS  below, 
With  FRIENDSHIP  and  with  LOVE. 
My  pilgrimage  I'll  go ; 
And  when  in  death's  embrace, 
My  summons  it  shall  come, 
Within  your  heart's  best  place, 
Oh,  Brothers,  oh  give  me  room ! 


Cjxe  <#tuI0sra«, 

FROM  ME  TO  THEE,  FROM  ME  TO  THEE, 

Each  whispering  leaf  a  missive  be, 
In  mystic  scent  and  hue  to  say — 

This  green  and  fragrant  spray — 
In  emerald  green  and  rich  perfume, 

To  teach  of  FAITH  that  mocks  the  tomb,, 
And  link  the  chain  FIDELITY, 

'Twixt,  Brother,  thee  and  me ! 

In  distant  land,  in  olden  time, 

The  ACACIA  bore  the  mark  sublime, 

And  told  to  each  discerning  eye 
Of  deathless  constancv : 


MASONIC      TRAINING.  39 

So  may  these  green  leaves  whisper  now, 

Inform  the  heart,  inspire  the  vow, 
And  link  the  chain  FIDELITY, 

'Twixt,  Brother,  thee  and  me  I 


Oh  !  Ladies,  when  you  bend  above, 
The  cradled  offspring  of  your  love, 
And  bless  the  child  whom  you  would  see 
A  man  of  truth  and  constancy, — 
Believe,  there  is  in  Masons'  lore, 
A  fund  of  wisdom,  beauty,  power, 
Enriching  every  soul  of  man 
Who  comprehends  the  mystic  plan. 

Then  train  your  boy  in  Mason's  truth ; 
Lay  deep  the  cornerstone  in  youth  ; 
Teach  him  to  walk  by  virtue's  line, 
To  square  his  acts  by  SQUARE  DIVINE  ; 
The  cement  of  pure  love  to  spread, 
And  paths  of  Scripture-truth  to  tread ; 
Then  will  the  Youth  to  manhood  grow 
To  honor  vs  and  honor  you. 


ASK,  and  ye  shall  receive ; 

SEEK,  ye  shall  surely  find ; 
KNOCK,  ye  shall  no  resistance  meet, 

If  come  with  ready  mind ; 
For  all  that  ASK,  and  ask  aright, 
Are  welcome  to  our  lodge  to-night. 

Lay  down  the  bow  and  spear; 

Resign  the  sword  and  shield ; 
Forget  the  arts  of  warfare  here, 

The  arms  of  peace  to  wield ; 
For  all  that  SEEK,  and  seek  aright, 
Are  welcome  to  our  lodge  to-night. 

Bring  hither  thoughts  of  peace ; 

Bring  hither  words  of  love ; 
Diffuse  the  pure  and  holy  joy 

That  cometh  from  above ; 
For  all  that  KNOCK,  and  knock  aright, 
Are  welcome  to  our  lodge  to-night. 

ASK  help  of  HIM  that's  high ; 

SEEK  grace  of  HIM  that's  true ; 
KNOCK  patiently,  the  hand  is  nigh, 

"Will  open  unto  you; 
For  all  that  ASK,  SEEK,  KNOCK  aright, 
Are  welcome  to  our  lodge  to-night. 


A  society  whose  ceremonies  and  language  extend  so  far  into  an- 
tiquity as  those  of  Freemasonry,  may  justly  claim,  more  than  others, 
to  be  the  conservator  of  old  things.  Nowhere  are  aged  men  so  prized 
as  in  lodges  of  Freemasons.  The  models  of  lodge  furniture,  to  the 
smallest  piece,  are  of  ancient  patterns,  and  their  lectures  and  their 
songs,  and  their  hopes,  all  breathe  the  spirit  so  well  expressed  in  the 
Scotch  phrase,  "  Auld  Lang  Syne."  The  following  lines,  much  used 
in  the  gatherings  of  the  Craft,  may  be  accompanied  in  recitation 
with  significant  gestures. 

We  do  not  sigh  for  pleasures  past, 

Nor  fondly,  vainly  pine ; 
Yet  let  us  give  one  memory 

To  Auld  Lang  Syne. 

With.  Gavel,  Trowel,  Guage,  we  work, 

With  Level,  Square,  and  Line ; 
Come,  join  the  CHAIN  OP  LOVE,  and  sing 

Of  Auld  Lang  Syne! 
For  Auld  Lang  Syne,  my  dear, 

For  Auld  Lang  Syne ; 
Ah,  who  like  us  can  sing  the  days 

Of  Auld  Lang  Syne  ! 


''Twas  sweet  when  evening's  shadows  fell- 
How  bright  our  Lights  did  shine ! 

Down  from  the  East  to  hear  the  words 
Of  Auld  Lang  Syne. 


42  TEARS      AND      SMILES. 

The  'PRENTICE  knocked  with  trembling  hand, 
The  CRAFT  sought  Corn  and  Wine, 

The  MASTER  stood,  and  nobly  fell, 
In  Auld  Lang  Syne. 

With  step  so  true,  with  form  upright, 
We  drew  the  GRAND  DESIGN  ; 

'Twas  well  we  knew  "  to  square  the  work," 
In  Auld  Lang  Syne. 

A  tear  to  them,  THE  EARLY  DEAD, 
Fond  memory  would  consign ; 

We  dropped  the  green  sprig  o'er  their  head, 
In  Auld  Lang  Syne. 

And  till  the  MASTER  call  us  hence 

To  join  the  LODGE  DIVENE, 
Let's  sometimes  give  a  grateful  thought 

To  Auld  Lang  Syne ! 


Smiles. 


The  tear  for  friends  departed, 
The  faithful  and  true-hearted, 

Cast  midst  the  rubbish  of  the  silent  grave, 
Is  changed  to  smiles  of  pleasure, 
While  trusting  that  our  treasure, 

A  glorious  Resurrection-day  will  have  ! 


Uunx  gimtttts. 

It  is  written  of  a  venerable  Craftsman  of  the  past  generation,  that, 
having  lived  through  all  the  trials  and  reproaches  of  the  Antimasonic 
period  (1826—1836),  and  maintained  his  membership  first  in  one  lodge 
and  then  in  another,  as  the  contiguous  lodges  successively  gave  way 
under  the  pressure,  he  came  peacefully  to  his  death-bed  at  last,  and, 
smilingly  said  to  the  friends  who  thronged  about  his  bed-side, 
"  Now,  Brothers,  let  me  have  my  demit !" 

In  the  oldest  system  of  Masonic  ethics  extant,  it  is  distinctly 
averred  that  "  every  Brother  ought  to  belong  to  a  lodge."  The  prac- 
tice of  non-affiliation  so  common  at  the  present  day,  is  thus  stamped 
as  unmasonic.  Death  alone  should  sever  lodge-affiliation. 

"  Now  dismiss  me,  while  I  linger, 

For  one  fond,  one  dear  word  more  ; 
Have  I  done  my  labor  fairly  ? 

Is  there  aught  against  my  score  ? 
Have  I  wronged  in  all  this  circle, 

One  by  deed,  or  word,  or  blow  ? — 
Silence  speaks  my  full  acquittance — 

Nunc  dimittis,  let  me  go  ! 

"  Let  me  go,  I  crave  my  wages ; 

Long  I've  suffered,  long  I've  toiled ; 
Never  once  through  work  days  idle, 

Never  once  my  apron  soiled ; 
In  the  CHAMBER,  where  the  Master 

"Waits  with  smiling  to  bestow 
CORN,  and  WINE,  and  OIL  abundant, 

Nunc  dimittis,  let  me  go  ! 


44  NUNC      DIMITTIS. 

"  Let  me  go,  but  you  must  tarry, 

Till  the  Sixth  day's  close  has  come ; 
Heat  and  burden  patient  bear  ye 

While  you're  absent  far  from  home  ; 
But  a  little  for  the  summons 

Waits  alike  for  each  of  you ; — 
Mine  is  sounding,  spirits  wait  me, 

Nunc  dimittis,  let  me  go ! 

"  Oh,  the  Sabbath-day  in  Heaven  ! 

Oh,  the  joys  reserved  for  them, 
Faithful  Builders  of  the  Temple, 

Type  of  blest  Jerusalem ! 
Oh,  the  raptures  of  the  meeting 

With  the  friends  'twas  bliss  to  know ! 
Strive  no  longer  to  detain  me, 

Nunc  dimittis,  let  me  go !" 

Hushed  that  voice  its  fond  imploring ; 

Faded  is  that  eager  eye ; 
Gone  the  soul  of  labor  wearied, 

To  repose  eternally : 
But  the  memory  of  his  service 

Oft  shall  lighten  up  our  woe, 
Till  the  hour  we  too  petition — 

"  Nunc  dimittis,  let  me  go !" 


|tat*», 

None  of  the  ancient  Masonic  legends  are  more  graceful  or  convey 
a  more  charmingly  esoteric  meaning,  than  that  which  assures  us  there 
is  for  an  hour  after  the  Brethren  disperse  from  their  lodge-room  a 
mysterious  echo  of  sounds  which  may  be  heard  there,  weird,  lingering, 
fraternal  in  tone,  made  up,  in  fact,  of  all  the  brotherly  expressions 
and  divine  acknowledgments  that  have  passed  about  the  group  through 
the  entire  convocation  !  It  is  affirmed  by  those  who  have  the  gift  to 
understand  it,  to  be  charming  beyond  expression,  and  that  the  last 
note,  as  it  dies  away  upon  the  ear,  is  the  echo  of  that  spirit  which 
filled  the  soul  of  our  Patron  Saint,  the  Evangelist  John—"  Love  !" 

Lingering  notes  the  echoes  stir, 
Soft  and  sweet,  these  walls  along ; 

Softly,  sweetly,  they  concur 
In  the  pleasant  tide  of  song ; 

Night-birds  cease  their  plaintive  lays 

Listening  to  the  hymn  of  praise. 

Angels  gliding  through  the  air, 

On  celestial  mission  bent, 
Pause,  the  sacred  hymn  to  hear — 

Fold  their  wings  in  soft  content- 
Join  their  notes  divine  to  these, 
Hymning  Masons'  mysteries. 

Now  the  solitary  room, 

Peopled  with  a  countless  throng — 

Now  the  stillness  and  the  gloom 
Kindle  with  the  tide  of  song, 

Filling  our  delighted  ears — 

Music  of  three  thousand  years ! 


4G  THE      GIVING      OF      THE      SHOE. 

Every  Emblem  pictured  there, 
On  the  ceiling,  wall,  or  floor — 

GAVEL,  TROWEL,  APRON,  SQUARE, 
COLTIMN  rent  or  open  DOOR — 

Blends  a  light  and  yields  a  tongue, 

To  this  softly-lingering  song. 

Now  the  anthem  dies  away ; 

One  by  one  the  voices  cease ; 
Birds  resume  their  wonted  lay ; 

Angels  on  their  mission  press ; 
But  the  latest  note  that  moves 
In  the  mystic  song  is  LOVE'S  ! 


oi  fyt 


Take  this  pledge  !  it  is  a  token 
Of  that  truth  that  ne'er  was  broken, 
Truth  which  binds  the  Mystic  Tie, 
Under  the  All-Seeing  Eye. 

Take  this  pledge  !  each  ancient  Brother, 
By  this  type  bound  every  other 
Firmly,  so  that  death,  alone, 
Rent  the  bonds  that  made  them  one. 

Take  this  pledge  !  no  pledge  so  holy  ; 
Though  the  symbol  seem  but  lowly, 
Tis  divine  !     It  tells  of  ONE, 
Of  the  rain-drops  and  the  sun. 


INSCRIPTIONS  FOR   A   LODGE- ROOM.     47 

Take  this  pledge !  the  token  sealeth 
All  the  judgment-day  revealeth ; 
Honor,  Truth,  fraternal  Grace, 
Brother,  in  thy  hands  I  place ! 


for  <i 


EAST. 

Erect  before  thee, 

A  hand  upon  thy  WORD, 
"We  thus  adore  thee 

And  swear  to  serve  thee,  Lord  ! 

WEST. 

So  mote  it  be  —  each  murmuring  word 
Speaks  the  soul's  earnest,  deep  accord, 
And  echoes,  from  its  inmost  sea, 
A  deep  "  AMEN,  so  MOTE  IT  BE  !" 

SOUTH. 

Ye  faithful,  weave  the  chain  ! 

Join  hand  in  hand  again  ! 
The  world  is  filled  with  violence  and  blood  ! 

Hark  to  the  battle-cry  ! 

Hark  to  the  answering  sigh  ! 
Come  weave  the  chain  that's  blest  of  man  and  God  ! 


of  tbc  |50rdjr. 


An  innovation  upon  the  Masonic  landmarks  is  like  removing  one 
of  the  emblems  from  the  Pillars  at  the  entrance  of  the  Temple.  It 
is  Masonic  sacrilege.  Every  instructed  brother  will  set  himself  reso- 
lutely against  such  an  act,  remembering  the  declaration  in  the  ancient 
books  of  our  Order  :  "  It  is  not  in  the  power  of  any  man  or  body  of 
men  to  make  innovations  in  the  body  of  Masonry."  In  this  lie  the 
STRENGTH  and  the  ESTABLISHMENT  of  the  Order. 

The  OLD  is  better  :  is  it  not  the  plan 

By  which  the  WISE,  in  by-gone  days,  contrived 
To  bind  in  willing  fetters  man  to  man, 

And  strangers  in  a  sacred  nearness  lived  ? 
Is  there  in  modern  wisdom  aught  like  that 

Which,  midst  the  blood  and  carnage  of  the  plain, 
Can  calm  man's  fury,  mitigate  his  hate, 

And  join  disrupted  friends  in  love  again  ? 

No  !  for  three  thousand  years  the  smiles  of  heaven, 

Smiles  on  whose  sunbeams  comes  unmeasured  joy, 
To  this  thrice-honored  CEMENT  have  been  given, 

This  BOND,  this  COVENANT,  this  sacred  TIE  : 
It  comes  to  us  full  laden  :  from  the  Tomb 

A  countless  host  conspire  to  name  its  worth, 
Who  sweetly  sleep  beneath  th'  ACACIA'S  bloom,  — 

And  there  is  nought  like  Masonry  on  earth. 

Then  guard  the  venerable  relic  well  ; 

Protect  it,  Masters,  from  th'  unholy  hand  ; 
See  that  its  emblems  the  same  lessons  tell 

Sublime  through  every  age  and  every  land  ; 


CHERISHING      THE      PLEDGE.  49 

Be  not  a  line  erased ;  the  pen  that  drew 
These  matchless  tracings  was  the  PEN  DIVINE  ; — 

Infinite  Wisdom  best  for  mortals  knew — 
GOD  will  preserve  intact  the  GRAND  DESIGN. 


During  the  Civil  "War,  the  question,  How  far  the  Masonic  obliga- 
tions extend  to  those  in  arms  against  their  country,  has  perplexed 
many.  The  following  Ode  is  proposed  as  the  aocient  and  sure  solution 
of  the  difficulty.  The  ANCIENT  CHARGES,  it  will  be  found,  leave  no 
room  for  doubt  upon  the  subject. 

It  would  be  criminal  here  to  omit  to  state  the  fact  that  through  all 
the  strife  which  has  deluged  the  land  in  blood,  while  other  bonds  and 
covenants  have  been  nullified,  the  BOND  OF  FREEMASONRY  has  remained 
intact ! 

Dear  Friends  of  the  Square  let  us  cherish  our  faith, 
Though  broken  and  torn  every  other  ! 
REMEMBER  THE  vow ; — we  swore  unto  death 
We  would  cling,  hand  and  heart,  to  a  Brother ! 

Then  raise  up  to  God  the  left  hand ! 
With  mine  join  the  other ! 

Though  war  blow  the  blast,  and  with  death  strew  the  land, 

WE  SWEAR  TO  BE  TRUE  TO  EACH  BROTHER  ! 

The  EAST  lends  his  light,  though  the  world  is  at  war ; 
The  SOUTH  shines  in  glory  and  beauty ; 
The  WEST  gently  smiles  o'er  fields  drenched  in  gore — 
They  teach  to  each  Mason  his  duty  ! 


50  LET      YOUR      LIGHT      SHINE. 

The  Badge  of  the  Craft  is  unsullied  as  yet— 
From  war's  dust  and  blood  let  us  fold  it ! 
The  Page  of  our  History  is  brilliant  with  light  ;-< 
Let's  swear  thus  in  honor  to  hold  it ! 

GREAT  GOD!  from  thy  Throne  view  the  nation  at  strife J 

THY  GAVEL  must  heal  this  disorder ! 

Send  Peace  o'er  the  land !  give  Refuge  and  Life ! 

Be  THOU  LORD  our  Saviour  and  Warder ! 

Then  raise  up  to  God  the  left  hand ! 
With  mine  join  the  other  ! 

Though  war  blow  the  blast,  and  with  death  strew  the  land, 

WE  SWEAR  TO  BE  TRUE  TO  EACH  BROTHER  ! 


ftt  gmir  fiflfct  Styine. 

"  Let  your  light  shine,"  the  Master  said,- 

"  To  bless  benighted  man  ! 
The  light  and  truth  my  Spirit  shed 

Are  yours  to  shed  again." 

We  come,  oh  Lord,  with  willing  mind, 
That  knowledge  to  display ; 

Enlighten  us,  by  nature  blind, 
And  glad  we  will  obey. 


fob*. 


By  one  GOD  created,  by  one  SAYIOUR  saved, 
By  one  SPIKIT  lighted,  by  one  MARK  engraved, 
We're  taught  in  the  wisdom  our  spirits  approve, 
To  cherish  the  spirit  of  BROTHERLY  LOVE. 

Love,  love,  Brotherly  love — 
This  world  has  no  spirit  like  Brotherly  love. 

In  the  land  of  the  stranger  we  Masons  abide, 
In  forest,  in  quarry,  on  Lebanon's  side ; 
Yon  temple  we're  building,  its  plan's  from  above, 
And  we  labor  supported  by  BROTHERLY  LOVE. 

Though  the  service  be  hard,  and  the  wages  be  scant, 
If  the  MASTER  accept  it,  our  hearts  are  content : 
The  prize  that  we  toil  for,  we'll  have  it  above, 
When  the  Temple's  completed,  in  BROTHERLY  LOVE. 

Yes,  yes,  though  the  week  may  be  long,  it  will  end, — 
Though  the  temple  be  lofty,  THE  KEYSTONE  will  stand : 
And  the  SABBATH,  blest  day,  every  thought  will  remove, 
Save  the  mem'ry  fraternal  of  BROTHERLY  LOVE. 

By  one  GOD  created, — come,  brothers,  'tis  day ! 
By  one  SPIRIT  lighted — come,  brothers,  away ! 
With  Beauty,  and  Wisdom,  and  Strength  to  approve, 
Let's  toil  while  there's  labor  in  BROTHERLY  LOVE. 


Jfite  nf  Jrienbsbip. 


Nothing  in  the  Masonic  institution  is  more  practical  or  more  grate- 
ful to  the  sensibilities  of  the  traveling-brother  than  to  find,  as  he  will 
do  in  every  lodge  in  this  country  an  officer  whose  constitutional  duty 
it  is  "  to  welcome  and  accommodate  visiting  brethren."  This  makes 
the  circle  of  the  Order  complete,  for  every  well-informed  brother  has 
a  claim  and  a  right  to  the  hospitalities  of  lodges  wherever  he  may 
travel  or  work.  The  following  lines  represent  the  sentiments  of  grati- 
tude which  such  an  one  may  be  supposed  to  feel  upon  the  reception  of 
that  broad  and  unreserved  welcome  peculiar  to  the  Masonic  system. 


Men  of  the  bright  inheritance,  oh  true  and  loving  band, 
Who,  linked  in  chains  of  Masonry,  around  this  altar  stand, 
Bright  let  THE  FIRE  OP  FRIENDSHIP  burn  and  warmly  let  it  glow, 
For  a  stranger  from  a  distant  land  would  join  your  circle  now. 

THE  ACACIA  blooms  in  every  clime,  the  BROKEN  SHAFT  doth 

rear 

Its  mournful  form  in  mystic  guise,  and  meets  us  everywhere ; 
The  GAVEL  rings  o'er  land  and  sea,  yon  EMBLEM  speaks  the  same, 
About  the  globe,  as  here  it  speaks,  THE  UNIVERSAL  NAME. 

And  why  ?  because  ONE  GOD  we  have  in  whom  alone  we  trust ; 
He  made  us  all,  OUR  FATHER  made  us  all  of  kindred  dust ; 
The  same  green  MOTHER  EARTH,  the  broad,  the  generous  he 

gave, 
That  feeds  us  while  we  live  and  gives  us  when  we  die,  a  grave. 


WORDS   OF   PEACE   AND   LOVE.        53 

"We  build  a  common  TEMPLE  too,  the  lofty  and  the  low, 
We  bring  the  same  heart-offerings  and  in  common  homage  bow  ; 
Our  TRACING-BOARD  the  same  designs  in  every  clime  has  given, 
And,   serving  the   same  MASTER,  we   expect   the  same  bright 
HEAVEN. 

Then  let  the  stranger  have  a  place  within  your  mystic  band, 
Where  eye  responsive  answers  eye,  and  hand  unites  with  hand ; 
He  knows  your  WORD,  he  knows  your  SIGN,  he  asks  no  better 

grace 
Than  with  you  here  to  sit  awhile  and  greet  you  face  to  face. 

Peace  in  the  lodges  where  you  work  be  heaven's  boon  to-day ; 
Peace,  Peace; — it  is  the  yearning  prayer   the  stranger's  heart 

would  pray ; 

And  could  they  hear  it  from  the  land  and  from  the  rolling  sea, 
From  every  Mason's  lips  would  come  the  cry,  So  MOTE  IT  BE  ! 


0f  l 


Now,  while  the  Thunder-peal  of  battle  is  heard, 
Earth  with  the  trampling  of  legions  is  stirred, 
Turn  from  the  Battle,  Brothers,  take  from  above, 

WORDS  OF  PEACE  AND  LOVE  ! 
Hearts  of  consolation,  bide  ye  the  vow  ! 
Hands,  never  weary  in  charity  now  1 
Tongues  rich  in  sympathy,  oh  take  from  above 
WORDS  OF  PEACE  AND  LOVE. 


54  THE    PILGRIM'S    HOME. 

Blood  like  a  river  flowing,  smokes  o'er  the  plain ; 
Tears,  bitter  weeping — oh,  who  can  refrain ! 
Stay,  stay  the  slaughter,  Brothers,  stay  this  distress, 
Speak  the  WORDS  OF  PEACE  ! 

Thus  speaks  the  TROWEL,  Brothers,  thus  speaks  the  LrsE, 
Thus  speaks  the  COMPASS  and  SYMBOL  DIVINE  ; 
Each  bears  its  message  on  the  white  wings  of  Peace, 
Bids  all  warrings  cease. 


In  the  "  Life  in  the  Triangle,"  is  described  a  MASONIC  BURIAL  AT 
NIGHT,  of  which  this  Ode  forms  a  part.  Four  members  of  the  frater- 
nity, who  resided  in  an  intensely  antimasonic  community,  had  discov- 
ered the  body  of  a  man  upon  whose  garments  was  seen  the  mystic  em- 
blem of  the  Order.  This  they  had  carefully  enshrouded  and  provided 
with  a  coffin.  At  night,  with  every  precaution  against  interruption, 
they  took  it  to  the  village  graveyard  and  interred  it,  with  the  songs 
and  the  signs,  and  the  circuits  prescribed  by  the  time-honored  usage. 


Bear  him  home,  his  bed  is  made 
In  the  stillness,  in  the  shade  ; 
Day  has  parted,  night  has  come, 
Bear  the  Brother  to  his  home — 
Bear  him  home. 


THE    PILGRIM'S    HOME.  55 

Bear  him  home,  no  more  to  roam, 
Bear  the  tired  Pilgrim  home ; 
Forward !  all  his  toils  are  o'er — 
Home  where  journeying  is  no  more — 
Bear  him  home. 

Lay  him  down ;  his  bed  is  here ; 
See  the  dead  are  resting  near ! 
Brothers  they  their  Brothers  own, 
Lay  the  wanderer  gently  down — 
Lay  him  down. 

Lay  him  down ;  let  nature  spread 
Starry  curtains  o'er  the  dead ; 
Lay  him  down ;  let  angel  eyes 
View  him  kindly  from  the  skies — 
Lay  him  down. 

Ah,  not  yet  for  us  the  bed, 
Where  the  faithful  Pilgrim's  lain ! 
Pilgrims  weep,  again  to  go 
Through  life's  weariness  and  woe — 
Ah,  not  yet ! 

Soon  'twill  come,  if  faithful  here, 
Soon  the  end  of  all  our  care ; 
Strangers  here,  we  seek  a  HOME, 
FRIENDS  and  SAVIOUR  in  the  tomb- 
Soon  'twill  come. 


56  HYMN      FOR      CONSECRATION. 

Let  us  go,  and  on  our  way 
Faithful  journey,  faithful  pray ; 
Through  the  sunshine,  through  the  snow, 
Boldly,  Brother  Pilgrims,  go — 
Let  us  go. 


for  €0tts*rraimn:. 


Lo,  God  is  here,  our  prayers  prevail  ! 
In  deeper  reverence  adore  ; 
ASK  FREELY  NOW!  he  will  not  fail 
His  largest,  richest  gifts  to  pour. 

Ask  by  these  EMBLEMS  old  and  true  ; 
Ask  by  the  memories  of  the  past  ; 
Ask  by  His  OWN  GREAT  NAME,  for  lo, 
His  every  promise  there  is  cast  ! 

Ask  WISDOM  !  'tis  the  chiefest  thing  : 

Ask  STRENGTH,  such  strength  as  GOD  may  yield  ; 

Ask  BEAUTY  from  his  Throne  to  spring 

And  grace  the  Temple  we  shall  build. 

LORD  GOD  MOST  HIGH,  our  LODGE  we  veil  ! 
'Tis  CONSECRATE  with  ancient  care; 
Oh  let  THY  SPIRIT  ever  dwell, 
And  guide  the  loving  BUILDERS  here  ! 


And  he  said  unto  me,  What  are  these  which  are  arrayed  in  white 
robes,  and  whence  came  they  ?  And  I  said  unto  him,  Sir,  thou  know- 
est.  And  he  said  unto  me,  These  are  they  which  came  out  of  great 
tribulation,  and  have  washed  their  robes,  and  have  made  them  white  in 
the  blood  of  the  Lamb. 

Therefore  are  they  before  the  throne  of  God,  and  serve  him  day 
and  night  in  his  temple ;  and  he  that  sitteth  on  the  throne  shall  dwell 
among  them. 

They  shall  hunger  no  more,  neither  thirst  any  more ;  neither 
shall  the  sun  light  on  them  nor  any  heat. 

For  the  Lamb  which  is  in  the  midst  of  the  throne  shall  feed  them, 
and  shall  lead  them  unto  living  fountains  of  waters ;  and  God  shall 
wipe  away  all  tears  from  their  eyes. — Rev.  vii.,  13—17. 


Come  cease  from  your  labors, 
Ye  white-aproned  neighbors, 

And  answer  my  words — 
Tell  us  who  are  ye  f 
We  are  friends  of  humanity, 
Hating  profanity. 
Spurning  all  vanity, 

CHILDREN  OF  PEACE — 

Men  who  can  feel 
All  our  own  need  of  kindness, 

And  bless  the  GREAT  GOD, 
Who  hath  lightened  our  blindness." 


58  THE     WHITE-APRONED      BROTHERS. 

Tell  us,  what  do  ye  f 
"  By  precept,  example, 
We're  building  a  temple, 
Fair,  lofty  and  ample 

For  HIM  whom  -we  serve — 
Following  the  plans 
That  our  MASTER  doth  give  us, 

And  amply  repaid 
When  His  servants  receive  us." 

And  what  do  you  work  with  ? 
"  The  Gage  and  the  Gavel, 
The  Plumb,  Square  and  Level, 
And  then  as  we  travel, 

The  Trowel  we  hold- 
Skillfully  these, 
As  first  we're  inducted — 

Obediently  these, 
In  the  way  we're  instructed." 

Tour  timbers,  what  are  they  f 
"  The  blocks  that  we  quarry, 
And  timbers  so  heavy, 
Our  hands  shape  and  carry, 
Those  ashlars  are  MEN  ; 
Eough  ashlars  they  are — 
But  hewed,  marked  and  garnished, 

By  precepts  divine, 
Our  task  will  be  finished." 


HOURS      OF      PRAISE.  59 

Tour  resting,  when  is  it  f 
We  look  for  no  leisure, 
We  sigh  for  no  pleasure, 
We  covet  no  treasure, 

Till  SATURDAY  SIGHT — 

Wages  and  joys, 
And  a  rest  without  breaking, 

Wait  for  us  then, 
In  the  home  that  we're  seeking." 


0f 


Morn,  the  morn,  sweet  morn  ia  springing; 

In  the  East  his  sign  appears  ; 
Dews,  and  songs,  and  fragrance  flinging 

Down  the  new  robe  nature  wears. 
Forth  from  slumber,  forth  and  meet  him  ! 

Who  too  dead  to  love  and  light  ? 
Forth,  and  as  you  stand  to  greet  him, 

Praise  to  HIM  who  giveth  night. 

Noon,  the  noon,  high  noon  is  glowing  ; 

In  the  South  rich  glories  burn  ;  ' 
Beams  intense  from  Heaven  are  flowing  ; 

Mortal  eye  must  droop  and  turn. 


60  HOURS      OF      PKAISE. 

Forth  and  meet  him !  while  the  chorus 
Of  the  groves  is  nowhere  heard, 

Kneel  to  HIM  who  bendeth  o'er  us — 
Praise  with  heart  and  willing  word. 

Eve,  the  eve,  still  eve  is  weeping  ; 

In  the  West  she  dies  away ; 
Every  winged  one  is  sleeping — 

They've  no  life  but  open  day. 
Forth  and  meet  her !  lo,  she  lends  us 

Thrice  ten  thousand  brilliants  high  ! 
Glory  to  His  name  who  sends  us 

Such  night-jewels  from  the  sky. 

Death,  pale  death,  to  all  is  certain ; 

From  the  grave  his  voice  comes  up— 
"  Fearless  raise  my  gloomy  curtain — 

Find  within,  eternal  hope" : 
Forth  and  meet  HIM,  ye  whose  duty 

To  the  LORD  OF  LIFE  is  given : 
HE  will  clothe  death's  garb  with  beauty- 

HE  will  give  a  path  to  Heaven. 


ALGERNON  SYDNEY  was  executed  on  the  scaffold,  Dec.  7,  1683. 
Having  ended  his  devotions,  he  placed  his  head,  unassisted,  on  the 
block.  Being  asked  by  the  headsman,  according  to  custom,  "  Sir,  will 
you  rise  again  ?"  he  answered  promptly  and  unfalteringly,  "  Not  till 
the  GENERAL  RESURRECTION  !  Strike  on  !" 

On  the  verge  of  Eternity,  calmly  surveying 

The  dark-rolling  waters  that  threatened  beneath, 

The  MARTYR  OF  LIBERTY  ended  his  praying, 
And  patiently  waited  the  signal  of  death ; 

His  head  on  the  block,  but  his  spirit  away, 

In  the  land  where  the  tyrant  shall  forfeit  his  sway. 

The  words  of  his  lips,  how  undaunted  and  cheering ! 

They  spoke  of  a  victory  grand  and  complete ; 
They  told  that  this  mortal,  whom  despots  were  fearing, 

Though  conquered  by  wrong,  was  the  conquerer  yet — 
"  The  grave  cannot  hold  me !  the  dust  shall  be  won 
From  the  worm  and  the  darkness  of  nature !  STRIKE  ON  !" 

How  mighty  that  hope,  when  the  spirit  departing, 
Must  sunder  the  ties  that  have  bound  it  so  long, 

To  feel  that  this  tenement  we  are  deserting, 
Shall  rise  to  new  glories  thro'  JESUS  THE  STRONG  ! 

The  grave  cannot  hold  us !  the  flesh  shall  be  won 

From  the  worm  and  the  darkness  of  nature !  STRIKE  ON ! 


62 


Ah,  yes !  and  each  flaw  that  the  eye  has  detected, 
While  occupied  here  shall  be  covered  above ; 

Renewed  by  the  same  glorious  hand  tliat  erected, 
These  Temples  shall  all  be  made  perfect  in  love ; 

The  grave  shall  not  hold  us — this  flesh  shall  be  won 

From  the  worm  and  the  darkness  of  nature !  STRIKE  ON  I 

Then  cheer  Brothers,  cheer !  for  why  should  death  alarm  us ! 

A  brief  separation  the  monster  will  bring ; 
Hia  pangs  will  afford,  though  a  moment  they  harm  us, 

A  glorious  reunion  thro'  Jesus  the  King ! 
The  grave  shall  not  hold  us — this  flesh  shall  be  won 
From  the  worm  and  the  darkness  of  nature !  STRIKE  ON  ! 


In  the  eleventh  chapter  of  Nehemiah,  the  expression  "  Ono,  the 
valley  of  Craftsmen  "  occurs,  which  forms  the  subject  of  the  following 
lines: 

Where  is  the  true  heart's  MOTHER-LODGE  ? 
Is't  where,  perchance  he  earliest  heard 
The  frightful  voice,  from  rocky  ledge, 
That  told  a  horrid  deed  of  blood  ? 
Is't  where  his  vision  earliest  saw, 
And  hands  enclasped  that  GOLDEN  THING, 
The  symbol-crowned,  the  wondrous  LAW, 
Noblest  creation  of  our  King  ? 


PLEDGE   TO   A   DYING   BROTHER.       63 

No :  though  in  fancy  he  may  turn, 
In  pleasing  reminiscence  back, 
As  happiest  hearts  at  times,  will  yearn, 
To  tread  again  youth's  flowery  track, — 
The  true  heart's  MOTHER-LODGE  is  found 
Where  truest,  fondest  hearts  conspire 
To  draw  love's  deathless  chain  around, 
And  kindle  up  love's  deathless  fire. 

Methinks  that  here,  dear  Friends,  must  be, 

ONO,  the  Craftsmen's  happy  VALE, 

And  you,  true  Laborer,  brave  and  free 

The  MASTER  in  the  peaceful  dale  ! 

So  let  me  fancy  and  when  bowed 

In  daily  adorations  due, 

I  will  entreat  the  Masons'  God 

To  bless  the  Craftsmen  here,  and  you  ! 


10 


We'll  lay  thee  down  when  thou  shalt  sleep, 

All  tenderly  and  brotherly  ; 
And  woman's  eyes  with  ours  shall  weep 

The  precious  drops  of  sympathy  : 
We'll  spread  above  thee  cedar  boughs 

Whose  emerald  hue  and  rich  perfume 
Shall  make  thee  deem  thy  resting-place 

A  balmy  bed  and  not  a  tomb. 


64        PLEDGE   TO   A   DYING   BROTHER, 

That  teeming  breast  which  has  supplied 

Thy  wants  from  earliest  infancy, 
Shall  open  fondly  and  supply 

Unbroken  rest  and  sleep  to  thee : 
Each  spring  the  flower  roots  shall  send  up 

Their  painted  emblems  toward  the  sky, 
To  bid  thee  wait,  within  thy  couch, 

A  little  longer  patiently. 

We'll  not  forget  thee,  we  who  stay 

To  work  a  little  longer  here ; 
Thy  name,  thy  faith,  thy  love  shall  lie 

On  memory's  page  all  bright  and  clear ; 
And  when  o'erwearied  by  the  toil 

Of  life,  our  heavy  limbs  shall  be, 
We'll  come  and  one  by  one  lie  down 

Upon  dear  mother-earth  with  thee. 

And  there  we'll  slumber  by  thy  side ; 

There,  reunited  'neath  the  sod 
We'll  wait,  nor  doubt  in  His  good  time 

To  feel  the  raising-hand  of  GOD  ! 
To  be  translated  from  the  earth, 

This  land  of  sorrow  and  complaints, 

To  the  ALL-PERFECT  LODGE  ABOVE 

Whose  MASTER  is  the  King  of  Saints. 


g,  S00K  to  %  (Orient. 

Yes,  in  yon  world  of  perfect  light, 
The  wearied  soul  at  last  may  rest ; 

No  higher,  farther,  wings  its  flight, 
Brought  to  the  glories  of  the  East. 

There  is  the  long-sought  boon  divine, 
And  worthy  of  the  painful  quest ; 

When  evening  shades  of  life  decline, 
The  day  is  dawning  in  the  East. 

Who  feels  this  truth  in  fervent  heart, 
May  know  his  last  hours  are  his  best ; 

How  joyful  from  the  West  to  part 

When  calls  the  Master  from  the  East. 

Join  hearts  and  hands  in  union  dear — 

Jesus  has  sanctified  the  test ; 
Life's  chain  is  only  broken  here 

To  join  forever  in  tlie  East. 

Mourners,  your  tears  with  gladness  blend ! 

Joy,  Brothers,  joy,  our  faith's  confessed ! 
The  grave  will  yield  our  parted  friend, 

When  we  with  him  approach  the  East. 


— <®ral  or 


There  is  a  prayer  unsaid — 
Is  o  lips  its  accents  move ; 
'Tis  uttered  by  the  pleading  eye, 
And  registered  above. 

Each  MYSTIC  SIGN  is  prayer, 
By  hand  of  Mason  given ; 
Each  gesture  pleads  or  imprecates 
And  is  observed  in  heaven. 

The  deeds  that  mercy  prompts, 
Are  prayers  in  sweet  disguise ; 
Though  unobserved  by  any  here, 
They're  witnessed  in  the  skies. 

Then  at  the  altar  kneel — 

In  silence  make  thy  prayer ; 

And  HE  whose  very  name  is  LOVE 

The  plea  will  surely  hear. 

The  darkest  road  is  light — 
"We  shun  the  dangerous  snare, 
When  heavenly  hand  conducts  the  road, 
Responsive  to  our  prayer, 


of  St. 


How  blest  is  the  home 
Where  the  Brotherhood  come  ! 

How  charming  the  time  and  occasion  1 
The  love  that  was  born, 
In  the  heart  of  Saint  John, 

Now  warms  up  the  heart  of  each  Mason. 

It  is  you,  Sir,  and  you, 
Friendly  Brothers  and  true, 
No  matter  what  may  be  your  station  — 
On  the  level  our  way, 

WE  ARE  EQUAL  TO-DAY, 

For  I,  Sirs,  with  you,  am  a  Mason  ! 

This  love  that  was  born, 

In  the  heart  of  St.  John, 
Is  the  bond  of  a  charming  connexion  ; 

Through  good,  and  through  ill, 

It  abides  with  us  still, 
And  makes  us  tha.rik  God  we're  a  Mason. 

When  in  the  Lodge  met, 

And  the  officers  set, 
'Tis  of  duty  and  pleasure  the  season, 

Ah  !  gladly  is  given 

To  the  FATHER  IN  HEAVEN, 
The  praises  devout  of  each  Mason. 


68  THE      SONG      OF      ST.      JOHN. 

When  labor  is  done, 

And  the  Brotherhood  gone, 
Do  you  think  that  our  secrets  we  blazon  ? 

No  !  no,  'tis  the  joy 

Of  our  mystic  employ, 
That  we  tell  them  to  none  but  a  Mason. 

For  'tis  this  we  do  learn, 
From  our  patron  St.  John, 
The  pride  of  this  charming  occasion, 
That  the  tongue  that  conceals, 
And  never  reveals, 

Is  THE  VERY  BEST  THING  FOR  A  MASON ! 

Then  Lady  and  Sir, 

While  we  stoutly  aver, 
In  our  Secrets  we'll  never  work  treason, 

The  rules  we  profess, 

Are  the  same  that  did  grace 
Our  patron  ST.  JOHN,  THE  FREEMASON. 

And  while  to  his  name, 
We  may  boldly  lay  claim, 

To  his  graces  we'll  cling  till  death's  season, 
And  then  to  the  bourne, 
Where  his  spirit  has  gone, 

We'll  hie  us  like  every  good  Mason. 


ia 


Ho  !  Brothers  of  the  MYSTIC  TIE, 

Come  round  me  if  you  please  ! 
Lay  down  the  GAVEL  and  the  SQUAKE, 

And  let  the  TROWEL  cease  ; 
The  work  may  stop  a  little  while— 

The  Master  will  not  blame, 
While  I  from  memory  sing  of  one 

Right  worthy  of  the  name,  — 
A  true  old-time  Freemason 
Whose  name  was  WASHINGTON  ! 

Of  every  superfluity 

He  did  his  mind  divest  ; 
He  would  not  set  a  timber  up 

Unless  it  was  the  best  : 
He  plumbed,  and  squared,  and  leveled  well 

His  BLOCKS,  and  set  them  true  ; 
Then  turned  his  apron  MASTEE-WISE 

And  spread  the  mortar  due  — 
This  true  old-time  Freemason 
Whose  name  was  WASHINGTON  ! 

When  bloody  war  at  foreign  hands, 

His  country  threatened  sore, 
He  thought  it  right  to  take  the  sword, 

And  guard  his  native  shore  ; 


70  THE      BROKEN      COLUMN. 

He  s';ood  where  bravest  hearts  are  found — 

He  struck  for  liberty  ; 
But  when  the  conquered  foemen  sued, 
A  man  of  mercy  he — 

This  true  old-time  Freemason, 
The  glorious  WASHINGTON. 

Upon  his  Apron  was  no  stain ; 

His  work  had  no  defect ; 
The  OVERSEER  accepted  all, 

There  was  nothing  to  reject. 
He  lived  in  peace  with  God  and  man  ; 

He  died  in  glorious  hope, 
That  CHRIST,  the  LION,  JTTDAH'S  PRIDE, 

Would  raise  his  body  up — 
This  true  old-time  Freemason, 
OUR  BROTHER  WASHINGTON. 


Column. 


"  His  WORK  was  not  done,  yet  his  Column  is  broken  ;" 
Mourn  ye  and  weep,  for  ye  cherished  his  worth  ; 
Let  every  tear-drop  be  sympathy's  token,  — 
Lost  to  the  Brotherhood,  lost  to  the  earth. 

His  WORK  had  been  planned  by  a  WISDOM  SUPERNAL  ; 
Strength  had  been  given  him  meet  for  the  same  ; 
Down  in  the  midst  he  is  fallen,  and  vernal 
Leaves  hang  above  him  and  whisper  his  fame. 


71 


His  WORK  WAS  TO  BUILD  ;  on  the  walls  we  beheld  him- 
Swiftly  and  truly  they  rose  'neath  his  hand ;' 
Envious  death  with  his  Gavel  has  felled  him, 
Plumb-line  and  Trowel  are  strewn  o'er  the  land. 

His  WORK  thus  unfinished  to  us  is  entrusted ; 
MASTER  OP  MASONS,  give  strength  we  entreat, 
Bravely  to  work  with  these  Implements  rusted, 
Wisely  to  build  till  the  Temple's  complete ! 


His  epitaph  a  Mason  true  and  good, 
Sincere  in  friendship,  ready  in  relief, 
Discreet  in  trusts,  faithful  in  Brotherhood, 
Tender  in  sympathy  and  kind  in  grief. 

On  grateful  memories  his  name  is  writ ; 
His  genial  heart  our  hearts  did  kindle  up  ; 
"We  drew  our  inspiration  from  his  light 
And  buoyancy  from  his  all-buoyant  hope. 

His  toils  are  ended ;  we  must  labor  on  : 

OUR  MASTER  for  a  little  longer  calls 

Our  hands  to  duty  at  the  rising  sun, 

Our  hearts  to  rest  when  evening  shadow  falls. 


72  DEATH,      THE      CELESTIAL      GATE. 

But  'twill  be  ended  soon  ;  may  our  reward 

Be  upon  hearts  like  his  to  lie  secure ; 

Like  him  to  enjoy  the  favor  of  the  LOKD, 

Whose  grace  is  boundless  and  whose  promise  sure. 


,  tbc  Cfltstial 


By  the  pallid  hue  of  those 
Whose  sweet  blushes  mocked  the  rose- 
By  the  fixed,  unmeaning  eye, 
Sparkled  once  so  cheerfully  — 

By  the  cold  damps  on  the  brow- 
By  the  tongue,  discordant  now  — 
By  the  gasp  and  laboring  breath, 
What!  oh  tell  us,  what  is  death! 

By  the  vacancy  of  heart, 
Where  the  lost  one  had  a  part  — 
By  the  yearning  to  retrieve 
Treasures  hidden  hi  the  grave  — 

By  the  future,  hopeless  all, 
Wrapped  as  in  a  funeral  pall  — 
By  the  links  that  rust  beneath, 
What  !  oh  tell  us,  what  is  death  ! 


DEATH,   THE   CELESTIAL   GATE.        73 

By  the  echoes  swelled  around, 
Sigh  and  moan  and  sorrow-sound — 
By  the  grave  that,  opened  nigh, 
Cruel,  yields  us  no  reply — 

By  the  silent  king,  whose  dart 
Seeks  and  finds  the  mortal  part, 
We  may  know,  no  human  breath 
Can  inform  its  what  is  death  ! 

But  the  grave  has  spoken  loud  ! 
Once  was  raised  the  pallid  shroud  ; 
When  the  stone  was  rolled  away — 
When  the  earth,  in  frenzy's  play — 

Shook  her  pillars  to  awake 
Him  who  suffered  for  our  sake ; 
When  the  vail's  deep  fissure  showed 
All  the  mysteries  of  God! 

Tell  us,  then,  thou  grave  of  hope, 
What  is  He  that  breaks  thee  up  ? 
"  Mortal,  from  my  chambers  dim, 
CHRIST  AROSE,  inquire  of  him !" 

Hark,  unto  the  earnest  cry, 
Notes  celestial  make  reply  1 
"  Christian,  unto  thee  'tis  given — 
DEATH'S  A  PASSAGE  UNTO  HEAVEN  !" 


Burns' 


sung  by  Professor  John  C.  Baker,  the  vocalist,  there  is  a  pathos 
in  Burns'  celebrated  Ode  that  is  irresistible. 


Never  since  'neath  the  daisies  laid 
Burns  joined  the  cold  and  tuneless  dead, 
Were  those  sweet  lines,  his  noblest  flight, 
Sung  as  you  sung  them  o'er  last  night. 

They  bore  us,  fancy- winged,  above ; 
They  thrilled  the  inmost  soul  with  love ; 
And  tears  confessed  "  The  fond  Adieu  " 
As  sung  so  well,  last  night,  by  you. 

Ah  what  a  thing  is  this  to  spread, 
That  binds  the  living  with  the  dead, 
And  makes  them  one  fraternal  throng 
As  you,  last  night,  so  justly  sung ! 

How  blest  are  we  who  rightly  claim 
The  Masons'  heart,  the  Masons'  name, 
And  see  "  the  Hieroglyphic  bright " 
Of  which  you  sung,  so  well,  last  night ! 

Then  as  you  journey  sweetly  sing; 

Let  craftsmen  hear  that  tuneful  thing ; 

No  better  can  the  pen  indite 

Than  those  sweet  words  you  sung  last  night. 

74 


THECRESCENT.  75 

And  when  your  own  HIGH  XII.  has  come, 
And  craftsmen  bear  you,  weeping,  home, 
May  loving  Mends  your  requiem  write 
Like  those  grand  words  you  sung  last  night ! 


Addressed  to  Crescent  Lodge,  No.  402,  City  of  New  York. 

GROWING,  GROWING  still  in  NUMBERS, 
Still  in  living  stones  of  strength ; 

Some  on  earth,  and  some  in  Heaven, 
Where  you  may  arrive  at  length : 

While  the  Moon  its  horns  shall  fill, 

"  CRESCENT  "  be  your  motto  still ! 

GROWING,  GROWING  still  in  WISDOM, 

Light  still  breaking  day  by  day, 
Sacred  light  from  yonder  volume 

Leading  to  the  perfect  way ! 
While  the  Moon  its  horns  shall  fill, 
"  CRESCENT  "  be  your  motto  still ! 

GROWING,  GROWING  still  in  HONOR, 

Still  in  that  good  men  pursue ; 
Honest  reputation  gilding 

Every  gracious  deed  you  do ; 
While  the  Moon  its  horns  shall  fill, 
"  CRESCENT"  be  your  motto  still ! 


76  DUTIES      OF      THE      CRAFT. 

GROWING,  GROWING  still  in  GOODNESS, 
Drawing  daily  still  toward  Heaven  ; 

All  the  emblems  glowing  'round  YOU 
For  that  very  purpose  given — 

While  the  Moon  its  horns  shall  fill, 

"  CRESCENT  "  be  your  motto  still ! 

GROWING,  GROWING  : — Men  of  u  Crescent,' 
May  your  growing  never  cease, 

While  there  is  a  vice  to  chasten, 
Or  a  sorrowing  heart  to  bless ! 

'Till  your  fullness  you  shall  see 

Dawning  on  Eternity ! 


guths  0f  %  Craft. 


To  afford  succor  to  the  distressed,  to  divide  our  bread  with  the  in- 
dustrious poor,  and  put  the  misguided  traveler  in  the  way,  are  duties 
of  the  craft,  suitable  to  its  dignity,  and  expressive  of  its  usefulness. 

Come  and  let  us  seek  the  straying, 

Lead  him  to  the  SHEPHERD  back ; 
Come,  the  traveler's  feet  betraying, 

Guide  him  from  the  dangerous  track; 
Come,  a  solemn  voice  reminds  us — 
Come,  a  mystic  fetter  binds  us — 

Masons,  here  your  duties  lie, 

Hark  the  poor  and  needy  cry ! 


VERDANT,      FRAGRANT,      ENDURING.  77 

Come  and  help  the  worthy  poor 

Starving  for  the  needed  bread ; 
From  your  well-replenished  store 

Let  the  fellow-man  be  fed ! 
Bounties  God  to  you  supplieth 
To  the  poor  he  oft  denieth. 

Come  where  sorrow  has  its  dwelling, 

Comfort  bring  to  souls  distressed ; 
To  the  friendless  mourner  telling, 

Of  the  Rock  that  offers  rest ; 
What  would  life  be  but  for  heaven  2 
Come,  to  us  the  WORD  is  given. 

Band  of  Brothers,  every  nation 

Hails  your  bright  and  orient  light  I 

Fervent,  zealous,  free,  your  station 
Calls  for  deeds  of  noblest  might  1 

Seek — the  world  is  full  of  sorrow — 

Act — your  life  will  end  to-morrow. 


GREEN,  but  far  greener  is  the  FAITH 
That  gives  us  victory  over  death. 
FRAGRANT,  more  fragrant  far  the  HOPE 
That  buoys  our  dying  spirits  up. 
ENDURING,  but  the  CHARITY 
That  Masons  teach  will  never  die. 


Far  away  in  the  West,  where  the  savage  is  straying, 

His  war  path  all  gory,  his  visage  begrimed, 
Where  man  hates  his  fellow,  betrayed  and  betraying, 

And  nature  alone  breathes  a  spirit  sublimed — 
There's  a  FOUNTAIN  whose  flow  sweet  as  nectar  inviteth, 

Embosomed  in  hills  such  as  Eden  adorn : — 
Each  sip  of  its  waters  to  Friendship  inciteth 

And  PEACE  is  the  song  that  its  song-birds  return. 

There  met,  drops  the  Savage  his  hatchet  and  arrow, 

There  met,  breast  to  breast,  joins  in  fondest  embrace : 
From  the  song-birds  the  foemen  sweet  carolings  borrow. 

And  war  paint  the  waters  wash  out  from  each  face : 
The  hills  smile  around — 'tis  the  approval  of  Heaven — 

Their  light  catches,  glances  in  every  eye, 
And  speaks  of  a  host  of  foul  insults  forgiven, 

And  pledges  a  Covenant  that  never  can  die. 

THE  LODGE  is  a  Peace-fount !  come,  Brothers,  and  taste  it ! 

O'erflowing  with  sweetness,  to  you  it  is  given ! 
A  EOCK  its  FOUNDATION — what  ages  have  placed  it ! 

Its  COVERING,  the  starry-decked  arches  of  Heaven. 
Its  LAW,  'tis  inscribed  in  yon  holiest  Volume — 

Its  CHAIN,  every  link  is  the  soul  of  a  Man  ! 
Behold  on  the  right  hand  and  left  hand  its  COLUMN  ! 

Behold  in  the  East  is  its  marvelous  PLAN  ! 

78 


£ar  a  Mmter     ^stifoal. 


Friends  ever  dear,  begin  the  opening  lay; 

Chant  ye  of  joys  that  none  but  Masons  know  ; 
Heart  answering  heart,  love's  secret  power  display, 
Gain  from  our  rites  a  blessing  e'er  we  go. 

Love  reigneth  here  —  Love  reigneth  here  ; 
Hate  has  the  rule  without, 
But  love  reigneth  here. 

Bleak  blows  the  wind  :  the  sky  with  angry  storms, 

Glares  on  the  traveler  as  he  flits  along  ; 
Here  genial  fire,  the  fire  of  Friendship  warms, 
Here  gleams  the  eye,  here  tunes  the  jocund  song  : 
Love  reigneth  here  :  Love  reigneth  here  ; 
Bleak  storms  may  blow  without, 
But  Love  reigneth  here. 

Sadness  and  care  —  our  life  is  full  of  these  ; 

'Tis  but  a  strife,  a  turmoil  at  the  best  ; 
Here  all  is  calm  ;  our  walls  we  build  in  peace  ; 
Here  one  short  hour  the  weary  heart  may  rest. 
Love  reigneth  here  —  Love  reigneth  here  ; 
Sadness  and  care  without, 
But  love  reigneth  here. 


0f 


Darkly  hid  beneath  the  quarry, 

Masons,  many  a  true  block  lies ; 
Hands  must  shape  and  hands  must  carry, 
Ere  the  stone  the  Master  prize. 
Seek  for  it — measure  it — 
Fashion  it — polish  it ! 
Then  the  OVERSEER  will  prize. 

What  though  shapeless,  rough  and  heavy, 

Think  ye  God  his  work  will  lose  ? 
Raise  the  block  with  strength  he  gave  ye ; 
Fit  it  for  the  Master's  use. 
Seek  for  it — measure  it — 
Fashion  it — polish  it ! 
Then  the  OVERSEER  will  use. 

'Twas  for  this  our  Fathers  banded — 

Through  life's  quarries  they  did  roam, 
Faithful-hearted,  skillful-handed, 
Bearing  many  a  true  block  home. 
Noticing — measuring — 
Fashioning— polishing — 
For  their  glorious  Temple-home. 


Cm. 


In  the  lawn  that  graces  an  aged  Mason's  residence,  stands  a  Cedar 
Tree,  planted  in  1836,  "for  masonic  purposes."  Still  the  withered 
hand  that  placed  it  there  to  furnish  sprigs  of  evergreen  for  burial  use  is 
strong  enough  to  do  THE  MASTER'S  WORK  at  each  Lodge  meeting,  and 
still  at  an  age  passing  the  Psalmist's  utmost  computation,  he  who 
planted  it  waits  patiently  for  the  day  when  its  limbs  shall  be  bared  of 
their  foliage  to  bestrew  his  coffin. 

Droops  thy  bough,  oh  Cedar  Tree, 

Like  yon  dear,  yon  aged  form — 
Droops  thy  bough  in  sympathy, 

For  the  wreck  of  life's  sad  storm  ! 
Sad,  indeed,  his  weary  age — 

Lonely,  now,  his  princely  home — 
And  the  thoughts  his  soul  engage, 

Are  of  winter  and  the  tomb  ! 


'Twas  for  this,  oh  Cedar  Tree, 

Verdant  midst  the  wintry  strife, — 
'Twas  for  this  he  planted  thee 

Type  of  an  immortal  life — 
That  when  round  his  grave  in  tears, 

Brothers  in  their  ART  combine, 
From  the  store  thy  foliage  bears, 

Each  may  cast  a  portion  in  ! 


82  A      LODGE      VALEDICTORY. 

Lo !  he  comes,  oh  Cedar  Tree, 

Slowly  o'er  the  frosted  plain ; 
Pauses  here  the  signs  to  see, 

Graven  with  a  mystic  pen  ! 
How  does  each  some  hope  express  1 

Lighter  gleams  the  wintry  sky, 
Lighter  on  his  furrowed  face 

Smiling  at  the  mystery ! 

Soon  to  rest,  oh  Cedar  Tree, 

Soon  the  veteran  shall  be  borne, 
There  to  sleep  and  patiently 

"Wait  the  resurrection-morn; 
Thou  shalt  perish  from  the  earth  ; 

He  in  sacred  youth  revive, 
Glorious  in  a  better  birth — 

Truths  like  these  the  emblems  give. 


Good-night !  the  spirits  of  the  blest  and  good, 
From  these  dear  walls  go  with  you  and  abide ; 

In  hours  of  sorrow,  hours  of  solitude, 

Or  when  the  hosts  of  melancholy  brood, 

And  cloud  your  mind,  may  angel-spirits  glide 

From  the  WHITE  THRONE  and  give  you  great  delight ; 
Dear  friends,  good-night ! 


HARD      SERVICE,      GOOD      WAGES.  83 

Good-night !  good-night !  and  joy  be  with  you  all ; 

May  sickness  never  blight,  nor  poverty  ; 
May  slanderous  breath  your  spirits  ne'er  appall ; 
May  no  untoward  accident  befall, 

But  all  things  prosperous  and  happy  be  ; 
May  morning  suns  rise  on  you  fresh  and  bright : 
Dear  friends,  good-night ! 

Good-night !  and  when  the  shadows  of  the  grave 
Close  in  around  you, — when  the  laboring  breath 

Draws  heavily,  and  unto  Hun  who  gave, 

You  yield  the  spirit,  be  HE  strong  to  save, 
Who  is  our  GUIDE  and  SAVIOUR  unto  death  1 

Then  may  dear  friends  and  heavenly  hopes  unite 
To  say,  good-night ! 


arb  S-erfrke,  (£000 


Bow  the  back,  ye  Brothers,  dear  !  — 

Pinch  the  flesh,  the  work's  severe  ! 

Come,  while  every  workman  sleeps, 

View  the  City  !  heaps  on  heaps  ! 

See  the  Temple  desolate  ! 

Lo  !  the  burnt  and  shattered  Gate  ! 

To  repair  it  is  your  wish  ?  — 

Bow  the  Back  !  and  Pinch  the  Flesh  ! 


84  HARD      SERVICE,      GOOD      WAGES. 

Bow  the  Back !— 'tis  hopeful  toil ; 
Yours  the  Corn  and  Wine  and  Oil, 
Emblems  of  reward,  shall  be, 
Plenty,  Peace,  and  Unity ! 
Pinch  the  Flesh ! — not  long  you  wait ! — 
Standing  in  the  Golden  Gate, 
Lo  !  your  Lord !  and  in  his  hand 
"Wages  rich  at  your  command ! 

Cheer  to  those  who,  long  and  late. 
Meet  and  toil  at  Sion's  Gate ! 
Cheer  and  Courage  ! — See !  on  high 
Beams  the  bright  ALL-SEEIXG  EYE  ! 
See !  the  work  goes  bravely  on ; — 
Wall  and  Gate  and  Tower  are  won ! 
Grasp  the  Trowel !— Wield  the  Sword  !— 
Cheer ! — And  trust  in  Sion's  Lord ! 

By  the  Hieroglyphics  ten — 

Wisdom,  Strength,  and  Beauty's  plan ; — 

By  the  mystic  Features  seven — 

Surely  by  the  MASTER  given : 

By  the  Covenant-woven  faith, 

Strong  in  life,  and  strong  in  death ; — 

Every  hope  of  foeman  crush ! 

Bow  the  Back  !  and  Pinch  the  Flesh ! 


Jfaitb  0f  %  <f  Ibm  Cimc. 

Give  me  the  FAITH  my  fathers  had, 
When  home-worn  ties  they  cast, 

In  stern  contempt  forever  back, 
Like  chaff  upon  the  blast. 

These  prayers,  lip-measured,  leave  me  chill, 

As  icy  fount  sends  icy  rill ; 

No  passion  bidding  nature  start, 

No  fire  struck  out  to  warm  the  heart ; 

There's  nothing  here  to  make  me  glad — 

Give  me  the  FAITH  my  fathers  had. 

A  patriot  now  is  bought  and  sold, 

For  price — but  render  me 
The  hopes  that  braced  the  hearts  of  old, 

My  fathers'  LIBEKTT. 
What's  fine-drawn  speech  and  wordy  war 
A  candle-ray  to  freedom's  star ! 
The  hand  to  hilt,  the  sword  abroad, 
The  flag  to  heaven,  the  heart  to  God, 
These  are  the  tokens  I  would  see — 
Give  me  my  fathers'  LIBERTY. 

Give  me  my  fathers'  walk  below : 

No  artful  mind  was  theirs, 
To  compass  kindred  hearts  about. 

With  treachery  and  snares ; 


FAITH      OF      THE      OLDEN      TIME 

No  nets  of  artifice  they  spread 
To  lure  the  innocent  to  tread ; 
Life's  blessings  how  they  freely  shared  \ 
Life's  fear  they  boldly  met  and  dared ; 
A  blameless  life,  a  death  sublime. 
These  were  the  things  of  Olden  Time. 

Give  me  the  friendships  that  entwined, 

The  upright  trunks  of  yore ; 
The  tendrils  that  so  sweetly  vined 

A  beauty  and  a  power. 
My  heart  is  sad  to  think  this  earth, 
With  all  its  joy,  with  all  its  mirth, 
Has  lost  the  chain  our  fathers  wove, 
The  chain  of  holy,  holy  love, — 
Has  lost  the  path  our  fathers  trod, 
The  path  that  led  them  up  to  God. 

Oh  then  bring  back  the  palmy  days, 

Of  innocence  and  truth, 
When  honesty  was  in  its  prime, 

And  selfishness  in  youth. 
When  man  allowed  to  man  his  place, 
When  probity  unbared  its  face, 
When  justice  poised  an  equal  scale, 
And  faith  sang  through  the  dying  wail; 
Away  an  age  of  care  and  crime, 
Give  me  the  days  of  Olden  Time  1 


C^t  Eesttmttimr. 

The  Craft  in  days  gone  by, 

Drew  from  their  Mystery, 
The  mightiest  truths  God  ever  gave  to  men : 

They  whispered  in  the  ear, 

Bowed  down  with  solemn  fear, 
"  The  dead,  the  buried  dead  shall  live  again  I" 

Oh  wondrous,  wondrous  word ! 

No  other  Eites  afford 
This  precious  heritage,  this  matchless  truth ! 

"  Though  gone  from  weeping  eyes, 

Though  in  the  dust  he  lies, 
Our  Friend,  our  Brother,  shall  renew  his  youth !" 

And  we,  who  yet  remain, 

Shall  meet  our  dead  again ; 
Shall  give  the  hand  that  thrilled  within  our  grasp 

The  token  of  our  faith, 

Unchanged  by  time  and  death ; — 
And  breast  to  breast  his  faithful  form  shall  clasp ! 

But  who,  oh  Gracious  God ! 

The  power  shall  afford  ? 
Who  with  Omnipotence  shall  break  the  tomb  ? 

What  morning  Star  shall  rise 

To  chase  from  sealed  eyes 
The  long-oppressing  darkness  and  the  gloom  ? 


CONSECRATION      OK      A      CEMETERY. 

Lo,  at  the  Mystic  shrine 

The  answer  all  Divine  ! 
Lo  where  the  Tracing-Board  doth  plainly  tell : 

"  Over  the  horrid  tomb, 

The  bondage  and  the  gloom, 
THE  LION  OP  THE  TRIBE  OP  JTTDAH  shall  prevail !" 

Then  hopefully  we  bend 

Above  our  sleeping  friend, 
And  hopeful  cast  the  green  sprigs  o'er  his  head ; 

'Tis  but  a  fleeting  hour— 

The  OMNIPOTENT  hath  Power, 
And  he  will  raise  our  Brother  from  the  dead ! 


C0nswratioit  oi  a  Ctnteterg, 

In  each  cold  bed  a  mortal  sleeps — 

The  SILENT  LODGE  is  here ! 
Pale  death  an  awful  vigil  keeps, 

Through  all  the  changing  year. 

What  tears  have  wet  these  grassy  mounds  1 
What  sighs  these  winds  have  heard ! 

Oh  God,  have  not  the  piteous  sounds 
Thy  pitying  bosom  stirred  ! 


CONSECRATION   OF   A   CEMETERY.       89 

Shall  man  thus  die  and  waste  away 

And  no  fond  hope  be  left ! 
Is  there  EO  sweet  confiding  ray 

For  bosoms  all  bereft ! 


From  each  cold  bed  a  form  shall  rise 
When  the  great  hour  shall  come  ; 

The  trump  shall  shake  the  upper  skies, 
And  wake  the  lower  tomb. 

No  weeping  then,  no  tear  nor  groan, 
For  these  around  us  spread ; 

A  shout  shall  reach  the  very  Throne 
From  the  long-silent  dead. 

Then  hush  our  hearts,  be  dry  each  tear, 
"Wake,  oh  desponding  faith  ! 

And  when  our  SAVIOUK  shall  appear, 
We  too  shall  conquer  death  ! 


On  these  blest  Graves  let  sunbeams  pour 

Their  balmiest  influence ; 
On  them,  let  each  reviving  shower, 

Its  gracious  pearls  dispense. 

O'er  these  blest  Graves  each  gentle  breeze 
Its  heavenly  whispers  breathe ; 

O'er  them,  the  foliage  of  the  trees 
A  crown  of  verdure  wreathe. 


90  SOMOTEITBE. 

Round  these  llest  Graves  at  dead  of  night, 

May  angel-bands  combine, 
And  from  their  Mansions  ever  bright, 

Bring  something  all  Divine. 


From  these  llest  Graves  may  hope  revive : 

May  JCDAH'S  LION  tell 
That  we  shall  meet  these  dead  alive, 

For  oh,  we  loved  them  well. 

Then  come  sad  hour,  we  lay  us  down 

And  calmly  wait  his  word : 
Blest  are  the  dead,  our  spirits  own 

Who  knew  and  served  the  LOKD. 


it 


So  MOTE  IT  BE  with  us  when  life  shall  end, 

And  from  the  East,  the  LORD  OF  LIGHT  shall  bend, 

And  we,  our  six  days'  labor  fully  done, 

Shall  claim  our  wages  at  the  MASTER'S  throne. 

So  MOTE  IT  BE  with  us :  that  when  the  Square, 
That  perfect  implement,  with  heavenly  care, 
Shall  be  applied  to  every  block  we  bring, 
No  fault  shall  see  our  MASTER  and  our  KING. 


A      HEBREW       CHANT.  91 

So  MOTE  IT  BE  WITH  us  :  that  though  our  days 

Have  yielded  little  to  the  MASTER'S  praise, 

The  little  we  have  builded  may  be  proved 

To  have  the  marks  our  first  GRAXD  MASTER  loved  ! 

So  MOTE  IT  BE  WITH  us :  we  are  but  weak ; 
Our  days  are  few  ;  our  trials  who  can  speak  ! 
But  sweet  is  our  communion  while  we  live, 
And  rich  rewards  the  MASTER  deigns  to  give. 

Let's  toil  then,  cheerfully,  let's  die  in  hope ; 
The  WALL  in  wondrous  grandeur  riseth  up  ; 
They  who  come  after  shall  the  work  complete, 
And  they  and  we  receive  the  WAGES  meet. 


jjtobnfo  Gfyaad. 


Lonely  is  Sion,  cheerless  and  still, 
Shekinah  has  left  thee,  thou  desolate  Hill : 
Winds  sweep  around  thee,  familiar  their  tone, 
But  trumpet,  timbrel,  song  are  gone. 

Joyous  was  Sion  on  that  glorious  day, 
When  Israel  beheld  all  thy  Temple's  display ; 
Heaven  sent  a  token  approvingly  down, 
But  temple,  altar,  cloud  are  gone. 


92  GO      ON      THY      BRIGHT      CAKEKK. 

Foemen  of  Sion  uplifted  the  spear, 
The  brand  to  thy  Temple,  the  chains  to  each  frere : 
Pilgrims  and  strangers,  thy  children  yet  mourn, 
But  foemen,  fetter,  brand  are  gone. 

Spirit  of  Sion,  oh  hasten  the  day, 
When  Israel  shall  gather  in  matchless  array ! 
Lord !  build  thine  altars,  thy  people  return, 
For  temple,  altar,  cloud  are  gone. 


<?B>0  an  fjnr  |8ri0jrt 


Go  on  thy  bright  career,  brave,  faithful  heart, 

Prayers  of  the  faithful  every  step  attending  ; 

Go  spread  the  triumphs  of  the  MYSTIC  ART, 

Wherever  knee  to  DEITY  is  bending  ; 

Raise  up  the  landmarks,  long  in  rubbish  hidden  ! 

Rear  high  the  Altar  on  Moriah's  brow  ; 

Denounce  all  teachings  by  our  rites  forbidden, 

And  LIGHT,  MOKE  LIGHT,  on  yearning  hearts  bestow. 

Crush  all  things  that  obstruct  the  cause  of  truth  ; 
How  grand,  how  noble  is  the  sacrifice  ! 
How  worthy  of  the  brightest  dreams  of  youth, 
To  build  a  HOUSE  like  that  within  the  skies  ! 
Oh  when  we  lay  thee,  mourned-for,  'neath  the  sod, 
And  cast  the  green  and  fragrant  bough  of  faith, 
How  cheerful  can  we  give  thee  to  thy  God 
Whose  works  defy  the  utmost  power  of  death  ! 


Cjre  Jfrtenrnsmrs'  ||0m.e. 

Where  hearts  are  warm  with  kindred  fire, 

And  love  beams  free  from  answering  eyes, 
Bright  spirits  hover  always  there, 

And  that1  s  the  home  the  Masons  prize. 

The  Masons'  Home !  the  peaceful  home  I 
The  home  of  love  and  light  and  joy ! 
How  gladly  does  the  Mason  come 
To  share  his  tender,  sweet  employ ! 

All  round  the  world,  by  land,  by  sea, 

Where  summers  burn  or  winters  chill, 
The  exiled  Mason  turns  to  thee, 

And  yearns  to  share  the  joys  we  feel. 

The  Masons'  Home  !  the  happy  home ! 
The  home  of  light  and  love  and  joy ! 
There's  not  an  hour  but  I  would  come 
And  share  this  tender,  sweet  employ ! 

A  weary  task,  a  dreary  round, 

Is  all  benighted  man  may  know, 
But  ~here  a  brighter  scene  is  found, 

The  brightest  scene  that's  found  below. 
The  Masons'  Home  !  the  blissful  home 

Glad  center  of  unmingled  joy ! 
Long  as  I  live  I'll  gladly  come 
And  share  this  tender,  sweet  employ  1 


04  THE      DYING      REQUEST. 

And  when  the  hour  of  death  shall  come, 

And  darkness  seal  my  closing  eye, 

May  HANDS  FRATERNAL  bear  me  home, 

The  home  where  weary  Masons  lie  ! 

The  Masons'  Home !  the  heavenly  home  1 

To  faithful  hearts  eternal  joy ! 
How  blest  to  find  beyond  the  tomb 
The  end  of  all  our  sweet  employ  ! 


The  last  request   of  General   Morgan   Lewis,   Grand  Master 
Masons  in  New  York,  is  embodied  in  these  lines: 


The  veteran  sinks  to  rest ; — 

"  Lay  it  upon  my  breast, 
And  let  it  crumble  with  my  heart  to  dust — 

Its  leaves  a  lesson  tell ; — 

Their  verdure  teacheth  well 
The  everlasting  greenness  of  my  trust. 

"  Through  three  score  years  and  ten, 

"With  failing,  dying  men, 
I've  wept  the  uncertainties  of  life  and  time  ! 

The  symbols,  loved  of  yore, 

Have  changed,  have  lost  their  power, 
All  save  ft  is  emblem  of  a  faith  sublime. 


THE      D  Yl  NG      REQUEST.  95 

"  Things  are  not  as  they  were ; — 

The  Level  and  the  Square, 
Those  time-worn  implements  of  love  in  truth, — 

The  incense  flowing  o'er — 

The  Lamb-skin  chastely  pure, 
Bear  not  the  interpretation  as  in  youth. 

"  Their  moral  lore  they  lose  ; 

They  mind  me  but  of  those 
Now  in  death's  chambers  who  their  teachings  knew  ; 

I  see  them — they  but  breathe 

The  charnel  airs  of  death — 
I  cannot  bear  their  saddening  forms  to  view. 

"  But  this,  O  symbol  bright ! 

Surviving  age's  blight, 
This  speaks  in  honey-tones,  unchanged,  unchanged ! 

In  it  I  read  my  youth, 

In  it  my  manhood's  truth, 
In  it  bright  forms  of  glory  long  estranged. 

"  Green  leaves  of  summer  skies, 

Blest  type  of  Paradise ! 
Tokens  that  there's  a  world  I  soon  shall  see, 

Of  these  take  good  supply ; 

And,  Brothers,  when  I  die, 
Lay  them  upon  my  breast  to  die  with  me !" 


THE      ALL-SEEING      EYE. 

'Twas  done.     They're  crumbled  now — 

He  lies  in  ashes  too ; 
Yet  was  that  confidence  inspired  in  vain  ? 

Ah  no,  his  noble  heart, 

When  death's  dark  shades  depart 
With  them  in  glory  shall  spring  forth  again. 


There  is  an  eye  through  blackest  night 

A  vigil  ever  keeps ; 
A  vision  of  unerring  light, 
O'er  lowly  vale,  o'er  giddy  height, 

THE  EYE  that  never  sleeps. 

Midst  poverty  and  sickness  lain, 

The  outcast  lowly  weeps ; 
What  marks  the  face  convulsed  with  pain  ? 
What  marks  the  softened  look  again  ? 

THE  EYE  that  never  sleeps. 

Above  the  far  meridian  sun — 

Below  profoundest  deeps, 
Where  dewy  day  his  course  begun, 
Where  scarlet  marks  his  labor  done — 

THE  EYE  that  never  sleeps. 


APPRECIATION.  97 

No  limit  bounds  th'  Eternal  Sight ; 

No  misty  cloud  o'ersweeps ; 
The  depths  of  hell  give  up  their  light — 
Eternity  itself  is  bright — 

THE  EYE  that  never  sleeps. 

Then  rest  we  calm,  though  round  our  head 

The  life-storm  fiercely  sweeps ; 
What  fear  is  in  the  blast !  what  dread 
In  mightier  Death !     AN  EYE'S  o'erhead, 

THE  EYE  that  never  sleeps. 


'Tis  good  to  feel  ourselves  beloved  of  men ; 
To  know  that  all  our  anxious  cares  and  sighs 
For  others'  weal  is  given  not  in  vain, 
But  treasured  up  in  grateful  memories ; 
How  light  the  toil  for  those  we  fondly  love ! 
How  rich  the  wages  grateful  spirits  prove  ! 

But  when  those  men  are  BKOTHEKS,  strongly  bound 
By  bonds  indissoluble,  sweet  and  true ; — 
When  gratitude  springs  out  of  sacred  ground 
And  prayers  are  mingled  with  the  praises  due ; 
Ah  then,  toil  is  no  burden,  gifts  no  load  ! 
We  have  full  recompense  for  what's  bestowed. 


98  LEANING      TOWARDS      EACH      OTHER. 

'Tis  thus  with  you,  my  Friend  1  the  voice  of  all 
Yields  willing  tribute  to  your  high  deserts ; 
But  from  the  CKAFT  there  comes  a  stronger  call — 
From  that  Great  Brotherhood  whose  chain  begirts 
The  broad  world  round,  the  grateful  wages  come 
Whose  price  is  HONOR  and  whose  favor  BLOOM. 

Long  may  you  live  in  Bloom  and  Honor,  long 
To  show  the  CHRISTIAN  in  the  MASON'S  guise ! 
In  STRENGTH  OMNIPOTENT  may  you  be  strong ! 
In  WISDOM  HEAVENLY  may  you  be  wise ! 
And  when  to  Death's  dark  portals  you  shall  come 
May  JESUS  banish  all  the  fear  and  gloom ! 


parang  Cofamrbs  (Smrjr 


The  jolts  of  life  are  many, 

As  we  dash  along  the  track  ; 
The  ways  are  rough  and  rugged, 
And  our  bones  they  sorely  rack. 
We're  tossed  about, 
We're  in  and  out, 

We  make  a  mighty  pother  — 
Far  less  would  be 
Our  pains,  if  we 
Would  lean  towards  each  other  ! 


LEANING      TOWARDS      EACH       OTHER.  99 

Behold  that  loving  couple, 

Just  mated  for  their  life — 
What  care  they  for  the  joltings, 
That  happy  man  and  wife ! 
The  cars  may  jump, 
Their  heads  may  bump, 

And  jostle  one  another, 
They  only  smile, 
And  try  the  while 
To  lean  towards  each  other ! 

"Woe  to  the  luckless  pilgrim, 

Who  journeys  all  alone  ! 
Well  said  the  wise  King  Solomon — 
"  Two  better  is  than  one !" 
For  when  the  ground's 
Most  rugged  found, 

And  great's  the  pain  and  pother, 
He  cannot  break 
The  sorest  shake 
By  leaning  towards  another ! 

There's  not  one  in  ten  thousand, 

Of  all  the  cares  we  mourn, 
But  what,  if  'twas  divided, 
Might  easily  be  borne ! 
If  we'd  but  learn, 
When  fortunes  turn, 


100  THE      HOUR      OF      ELEVEN. 

To  share  them  with  a  Brother, 
We'd  prove  how  good's 
Our  Brotherhood, 

By  leaning  towards  each  other  t 

Then,  Masons,  take  my  counsel — 
The  Landmarks  teach  you  so — 
Share  all  the  joltings  fairly, 
As  down  the  track  you  go ! 
Yes,  give  and  take, 
Of  every  shake, 

With  all  the  pain  and  pother, 
And  thus  you'll  prove 
Your  Mason's  love, 
By  leaning  towards  each  other ! 


Cjj*  f  0ur  0f 

The  expiring  words  of  a  zealous  Mason  were  "  High  Eleven !" 

'Twas  at  the  hour,  when  laborers  cast 

A  wistful  eye  to  heaven, 
And  near  the  South  the  fervid  sun 

In  glory  shines — ELEVEN. 

A  skillful  man  with  cheerful  toil 

His  morning  tasks  had  driven  ; 
He  smiled  to  see  the  glowing  sun 

Proclaim  the  hour — ELEVEN. 


THE     HO  UK      OF     ELEVEN.  101 

A  faithful  frere,  of  all  the  band 

To  him  the  meed  was  given ; 
'Twas  not  in  indolence  he  gazed, 

Or  smiled  to  see — ELEVEN. 

His  Master's  work  had  lost  no  charm 

That  youth  and  zeal  had  given ; 
Unswerving  faith  had  buoyed  him  up 

From  six  to  high  ELEVEN. 

But  worn  and  spent,  he  needed  rest, 

Nor  could  delay  till  even ; 
He  felt  his  task  was  nearly  done, 

And  smiled  to  see — ELEVEN. 

And  soon  the  stroke  HIGH  NOON  announced 

His  entrance  into  heaven ; 
Prophetic  proved  that  upward  gaze, 

That  smile,  that  word — ELEVEN. 


Corn.    mm*.    €\l 

It  is  the  Master's  province  to  communicate  light  to  the  brethren. 

They  come  from  many  a  pleasant  home — 
To  do  the  Ancient  Work  they  come, 

With  cheerful  hearts  and  light; 
They  leave  the  world  without,  a  space, 
And  gathering  here  in  secret  place, 

They  spend  the  social  night ; 
They  earn  the  meed  of  honest  toil, 
Wages  of  CORN,  and  WINE,  and  OIL. 

Upon  the  sacred  Altar  lies, 
Ah  many  a  precious  sacrifice 

Made  by  these  working  men ! 
The  passions  curbed,  the  lusts  restrained, 
And  hands  with  human  gore  unstained, 

And  hearts  from  envy  clean  ; 
They  earn  the  meed  of  honest  toil, 
Wages  of  CORN,  and  WINE,  and  OIL. 

They  do  the  deeds  THEIR  MASTER  did ; 
The  naked  clothe,  the  hungry  feed— 

They  warm  the  shivering  poor ; 
They  wipe  from  fevered  eyes,  the  tear ; 
A  Brother's  joys  and  griefs  they  share. 

As  ONE  had  done  before : 
They  earn  the  meed  of  honest  toil, 
Wages  of  CORN,  and  WINE,  and  On,. 


CORN.        WINE.         OIL.  103 

Show  them  how  Masons  Masons  know, 
The  land  of  strangers  journeying  through, 

Show  them  how  Masons  love ; 
And  let  admiring  spirits  see 
How  reaches  Masons'  charity 

From  earth  to  heaven  above ; 
Give  them  the  meed  of  honest  toil, 
WAGES  of  CORN,  and  WINE,  and  OIL. 

Then  will  each  Brother's  tongue  declare 
How  bounteous  his  wages  are, 

And  Peace  will  reign  within ; 
Your  walls  with  skillful  hands  will  grow, 
And  coming  generations  know 

Your  Temple  is  DIVINE  ; 
Then  give  the  meed  of  honest  toil, 
Wages  of  CORN,  and  WINE,  and  OIL. 

Yes,  pay  these  men  their  just  desert ! 
Let  none  dissatisfied  depart, 

But  give  them  full  reward ; 
Give  LIGHT  that  longing  eyes  may  see ; 
Give  TRUTH  that  doth  from  error  free ; 

Give  them  to  know  the  LORD  ! 
Give  them  the  meed  of  honest  toil, 
Wages  of  CORN,  and  WINE,  and  OIL. 


Criktte  t0 


The  sun  is  uprising  on  Scotia's  far  hills, 

Day's  labor  is  opening,  the  Grand  Master  wills, 

But  Lodge-lights  are  gleaming  in  cheerfulness  yet, 

Afar  in  the  west,  where  we  Masons  are  met. 

There's  song  for  the  tuneful,  kind  words  for  the  kind, 

There's  cheer  for  the  social,  and  light  for  the  blind, 

But  when  we,  uprising,  prepare  us  to  go, 

With  one  thought  and  feeling  we'll  sing  thy  ADIEU. 

A  melting  farewell  to  the  favored  and  bright,  — 
A  sorrowful  thought  for  the  sun  set  in  night,— 
A  round  to  the  Bard  whom  misfortunes  befell,  — 
A  prayer  that  his  spirit  with  Masons  may  dwell. 
When  freedom  and  harmony  bless  our  design, 
We'll  think  of  thee,  Brother,  who  loved  every  line; 
And  when  gloomy  clouds  shall  our  Temple  enshroud, 
The  voice  of  thy  music  shall  come  from  the  cloud. 

Across  the  broad  ocean  two  hands  shall  unite, 
Columbia,  —  Scotia,  —  the  symbol  is  bright  ! 
The  world  one  Grand  Lodge,  and  the  heaven  above, 
Shall  witness  the  triumph  of  Faith,  Hope,  and  Love  ; 
And  thou,  sweetest  Bard,  when  our  gems  we  enshrine, 
Thy  jewel,  the  brightest,  most  precious,  shall  shine, 
Shall  gleam  from  the  East,  to  the  far  distant  West, 
While  morning  shall  call  us,  or  evening  shall  rest. 


When  the  SPIRIT  came  to  Jephthah, 

Animating  his  great  heart, 
He  arose,  put  on  his  armor, 

Girt  his  loins  about  to  part, 
Bowed  the  knee,  implored  a  blessing, 

Gave  an  earnest  of  his  faith, 
Then,  divinely-strung,  departed, 

Set  for  victory  or  death. 

If  a  rude,  uncultured  soldier 

Thus  drew  Wisdom  from  above, 
How  should  we,  enlightened  Laborers, 

Children  of  the  Sire  of  Love, — 
How  should  we,  who  know  "  the  Wisdom 

Gentle,  pure  and  peaceable," 
Make  a  prayerful  preparation 

That  our  work  be  square  and  full ! 

Lo  the  future !     ONE  can  read  it — 

HE  its  darkest  chance  can  bend : 
Lo  our  wants,  how  great,  how  many  ! 

HE  abundant  means  can  lend : 
Raise  your  hearts  then,  Pilgrims,  boldly 

Build  and  journey  in  his  trust : 
Square  your  deeds  by  precepts  holy, 

And  the  end  is  surely  blest. 


106        THE      INHERITANCE      OF      FRIENDSHIP. 

Vainly  will  the  builders  labor 

If  the  OVERSEER  is  gone ; 
Vainly  gate  and  wall  are  guarded 

If  the  ALL-SEEING  is  withdrawn ; 
Only  is  successful  ending 

When  the  work's  begun  with  care ; 
Lay  your  blocks,  then,  Laborers,  strongly, 

On  the  Eternal  Rock  of  Prayer. 


Cjxe  Jf nlxeriiane*  0f  Jfrimtrsjrijr. 

When  twenty  years  have  circled  round, 

The  lads  now  standing  at  my  knee 
Will  cherish  one  poor  spot  of  ground 
Sacred  to  memory  and  me. 
Gazing  upon  the  humble  sod, 
Recalling  each  fond,  loving  word, 
They'll  keep  one  link  in  memory's  chain 
Bright,  till  the  hour  we  meet  again. 

Such  is  the  lesson  I  impart 

At  evening's  set  when  prayers  are  said : 
The  last  sweet  sentiment  at  heart 
Ere  little  eyes  are  closed  in  bed. 

That  when  upon  life's  billows  tossed, 
In  worldly  selfishness  engrossed, 
A  CABLE-TOW  the  thought  shall  prove 
To  draw  them  by  a  Father's  love. 


THE      INHERITANCE      OF      FRIENDSHIP.        107 

When  twenty  years  have  come  and  gone 

They  who  shall  fondly  look  for  you 
Must  leave  the  scenes  you  now  adorn 
And  seek  the  sodded  hillock  too : 
Tears  will  bedew  the  grass  beneath, 
Sighs  will  unite  with  nature's  breath, 
To  embalm  within  that  hallowed  bed, 
A  father  loved,  a  father  dead. 

There's  Brotherhood  in  honest  sighs, 

There's  Brotherhood  in  earnest  tears : 
Our  sons,  made  kindred  by  such  ties, 
Shall  interchange  their  hopes  and  fears : 
Yours  to  the  WEST  their  steps  will  bend 
To  honor  their  dear  Father's  friend : 
Mine  to  the  EAST  will  make  their  way 
A  pious  pilgrimage  to  pay. 

Such  was  the  dream  that  fired  my  brain 

Last  night  as  mid  my  loved  ones  lying, 
It  came  again,  again,  again, 

And  traced  itself  in  lines  undying. 

I  dreamed  we  twain  had  joined  the  bands 
Who  live  and  love  in  other  lands, 
And  from  high  seats  beheld  with  joy 
The  step  of  each  dear  pilgrim-boy. 


108  TO      MASONS      EVERYWHERE. 

I  dreamed  that  on  some  sunny  plain 

They,  o'er  whose  couch  we've  bent  at  night, 
Met,  twined  with  eager  hands  the  chain, 
The  Chain  of  Love,  the  Chain  of  Light ; 
With  glowing  lips  exchanged  the  Word- 
No  fonder  does  our  tongue  afford, — 
And  Covenanted  by  that  faith 
Their  fathers  pledged  and  kept  till  death. 

Then  be  it  so,  dear  Friend,  and  while 

For  earthly  labors  we  are  spared, 
Let's  teach  our  sons  to  cherish  well 
The  friendship  we've  so  freely  shared. 
Then  at  life's  sunset  we  may  die 
And  yet  the  power  of  Death  defy : 
Then  by  the  Monster-victor  slain 
In  our  dear  Children  live  again ! 


asoits 


In  gladsome  mood  again  we're  met  — 

How  swiftly  passed  the  year  ! 
Begin  the  feast,  and,  Brothers,  drink 
To  Masons  everywhere  ! 

A  Mason's  love  is  unrestrained  ; 
Each  other's  woes  we  share  ; 
Then  lift  the  cup,  and,  Brothers,  drink 
To  Masons  everywhere  I 


TO      MASONS      EVERYWHERE.  109 

What  would  our  Mystic  Tie  be  worth- 
How  little  should  we  care 
For  Masonry,  did  not  its  links 
Encircle  everywhere ! 
With  Masons'  love  so  unrestrained, 

Each  other's  woes  to  share, 
Well  may  we  fill  the  cup  and  drink 
To  Masons  everywhere ! 

Though  some  we  loved  have  fallen  on 

The  weary  path  of  care, 
What  then  !  in  heaven  they're  yet  our  own  ! 
To  Masons  everywhere  ! 
For  Masons'  love,  so  unrestrained, 

Eternity  may  dare ! 
Then,  Brothers,  fill,  and  fondly  drink 
To  Masons  everywhere  ! 

And  so,  when  death  shall  claim  us,  too, 

And  other  forms  be  here, 
May  we  in  memory's  heart  be  held 
By  Masons  everywhere ! 

For  Masons'  love  is  unrestrained, 
Nor  death  the  chain  may  tear ; 
O'erflow  the  cup,  and,  Brothers,  drink 
To  Masons  everywhere  ! 


Q  glasrmic 

Lo,  from  the  distant  West, 

Lo,  from  your  honored  guest 
The  voice  of  greeting  and  a  word  of  prayer ; 

Ye  Sons  of  Cheer,  all  hail ! 

This  grateful  tongue  shall  tell 
The  tie  that  binds  you  and  the  joys  you  share  ! 

There  is  a  CORD  of  length, 

There  is  a  CHAIN  of  strength, 
Around  you  each  I  see  the  sacred  coil ; 

How  long,  ah,  well  I  know  ! 

How  strong,  your  deeds  do  show, 
The  while  you  labor  in  the  sacred  toil. 

In  amplest  share  bestowed, 

By  Him  you  worship — GOD, 
The  joy  of  Friendship  well  you  feel  and  prize, 

Tis  His  own  best  design, 

'Tis  perfect,  'tis  divine, 
It  is  the  bliss  diffused  through  upper  skies. 

Peace  be  within  your  halls  ! 

The  CEMENT  of  your  walls 
Be  HOLY  LOVE — pure,  indestructible  1 

From  the  o'erarching  Heaven 

A  gracious  smile  be  given, 
The  favor  of  a  DEITY  to  tell ! 


THE      HAPPY      HOUR.  Ill 

When  each  shall  bow  in  death, 

Joy  to  the  parting  breath  ! 
Rich  fragrance  from  a  thousand  generous  deeds  ! 

And  where  your  ashes  be, 

Sacred  to  memory 
The  spot  while  man  pure  truth  and  honor  heeds  ! 

And  me,  oh  loving  Friends, 

When  life's  poor  story  ends, 
Me  in  your  inner  heart  of  hearts  enshrine  ! 

Humble,  but  oh  sincere, — 

Erring  and  sorrowing  here, 
Write  me  as  one  who  loved  each  Mystic  line  ! 

Builders  of  light,  your  hands  ! 

Distant  our  several  lands  ? 
No  ;  for  I  see,  I  hear,  I  feel  you  now ! 

Bind  once  again  the  chain ; 

Again,  dear  Friends,  again ; 
Hear,  Gracious  Lord,  hear  and  confirm  the  Vow  ! 


pour. 

Oh  happy  hour  when  Masons  meet ! 
Oh  rarest  joys  that  Masons  greet ! 
Each  interwoven  with  the  other, 
And  Brother  truly  joined  with  Brother, 
In  intercourse  that  none  can  daunt, 
Linked  by  the  ties  of  COVENANT. 


112  THE      WORLD-WIDE      RECOGNITION. 

See,  ranged  about  the  Holy  Word, 

The  Craftsmen  praise  their  common  LOKD  ! 

See  in  each  eye  a  love  well  proven  ! 

Around  each  heart  a  faith  well  woven  ! 

Feel,  in  each  hand-grip,  what  a  tie 

Is  this  whose  scope  is  MASONRY. 

Blest  bond  !  when  broken,  we  would  fain 
Unite  the  severed  links  again ; 
Would  urge  the  tardy  hours  along, 
To  spend  the  wealth  of  light  and  song, 
That  makes  the  Lodge  a  sacred  spot ; 
Oh,  be  the  season  ne'er  forgot, 
That  takes  us  from  a  world  of  care 
To  happy  scenes  where  Masons  are  ! 


Wherever  man  is  tracing 
The  weary  ways  of  care, 

'Midst  wild  and  desert  pacing, 
Or  lands  of  softer  air, 

WE    SURELY   KNOW   EACH   OTHER, 

And  with  true  words  of  cheer, 
Each  Brother  hails  his  Brother, 
And  hope  wings  lightly  there. 


THE      WIDOW      AND      THE      FATHERLESS.        113 

Wherever  tears  are  falling — 

The  soul's  dark  wintry  rain — 
And  human  sighs  are  calling 

To  human  hearts  in  vain, 
We  surely  know  each  other,  etc. 

Wherever  prayer  is  spoken, 

In  earnestness  of  Faith, 
We're  minded  of  the  TOKEN 

That  tells  our  Master's  death. 
We  pray,  then,  for  each  other,  etc. 

Wherever  man  is  lying 

Unknowing  and  unknown, 
There's  one  yet  by  the  dying — 

He  shall  not  die  alone. 
For  then  we  know  each  other,  etc. 


Uttrofo  anfr 


As  on  my  road  delaying, 

The  stream's  cool  waters  by, 
My  thoughts  in  fancy  straying, 

I  heard  a  plaintive  cry  : 
"  There  may  be  hope  in  heaven  — 

For  iis  no  hope  is  here  ; 
Oh,  why  was  joy  thus  given, 

So  soon  to  disappear  !  " 


114    THE   WIDOW   AND   THE   FATHERLESS. 

Around  the  grave  was  weeping 

A  widowed,  orphaned  band ; 
Beneath  their  feet  was  sleeping 

The  husband,  father,  friend ; 
And  as  their  sorrows,  swelling, 

Broke  forth  midst  sigh  and  tear, 
Again  these  words  were  telling — 

"  Alas,  no  hope  is  here  ! " 

The  stream's  cool  waters  flowing, 

No  longer  sung  to  me — 
The  soft  spring  sunbeams  glowing, 

Were  cheerless  all  to  see ; 
For  still  that  widowed  mother, 

And  still  those  orphans  dear, 
Bewailed  my  buried  BROTHER — 

"  Alas,  no  hope  is  here  ! " 

MY  BROTHER  ?  yes,  forsaken, 

These  lov'd  ones  round  thee  mourn ; 
Too  soon  from  friendship  taken, 

Dear  Brother,  thou  art  gone  ! 
Gone  from  a  cold  world's  sighing, 

From  sorrow  and  from  fear, 
But  left  these  mourners  crying — 

"  Alas,  no  hope  is  here  ! " 


THE  DEATH   OF   THE   GRAND   MASTER.   115 

Those  tears,  my  heart,  are  holy ! 

Those  sighs  by  anguish  driven, 
This  mourning  group  so  lowly, 

Are  messengers  of  Heaven ; 
And  so  will  I  receive  them, 

As  God  shall  give  me  cheer, 
Protect  them  and  relieve  them, 

And  teach  them  HOPE  is  HERE  ! 


oi  %  6ranfc  gfcwter. 


CRAWFORD,  Grand  Master  of  Maryland,  died  under  the  affecting 
circumstances  here  described  : 

His  voice  was  low,  his  utterance  choked, 
He  seemed  like  one  in  sorrow  bound, 

As  from  the  ORIENT  he  invoked 

God's  blessings  on  the  Masons  round. 

'Tis  sad  to  see  the  strong  man  weep— 

Tears  are  for  sorrows  yet  untried  ; 
But  who  his  sympathy  can  keep, 

When  age  unseals  emotion's  tide  ? 

Reverently  stood  the  Brothers  round, 

While  their  Grand  Master  breathed  farewell, 

And  strove  to  catch  the  faintest  sound 
Of  accents  known  and  loved  so  well. 


116   THE   DEATH   OF   THE   GRAND   MASTER. 

He  told  them  of  the  zealous  care 

Of  their  forefathers  of  the  ART  ; 
How  valley-gloom  and  mountain-air 

Bore  witness  of  the  faithful  heart. 

He  conned  the  precepts,  line  by  line — 
Oh,  that  the  Craft  may  ne'er  despise 

Precepts  so  precious,  so  divine, 
That  shape  the  Mason-mysteries. 

He  warned  them  of  a  world  unkind, 

Harsh  to  the  good,  to  evil  mild, 
Whose  surest  messengers  are  blind, 

Whose  purest  fountains  are  defiled. 

He  told  them  of  a  world  to  come, 

To  which  this  life  a  portal  is, 
Where  tired  laborers  go  home, 

To  scenes  of  never-ending  bliss. 

Then  of  himself  he  humbly  spoke — 

So  modestly !  so  tenderly  1 
While  from  the  saddened  group  there  broke 

An  answering  sigh  of  sympathy : 

"  Now  give  me  rest :  my  years  demand 

A  holiday,  Companions  dear  ! 
My  days  are  drawing  to  an  end, 

And  I  would  for  my  end  prepare. 


THE  VETERAN'S  LAMENT.       117 

"  Now  give  me  rest ;  but  when  you  meet, 

Brothers,  in  this  beloved  spot, 
My  name  upon  your  lips  repeat, 

And  never  let  it  be  forgot ! 

•"  Now  unto  GOD,  the  Masons'  FRIEND, 

The  GOD  our  emblems  brightly  tell, 
Tour  dearest  interests  I  commend — 

Brothers,  dear  Brothers,  oh,  farewell ! " 

Down  from  the  Orient,  slowly  down, 

"Weeping,  through  that  sad  group  he  passed, 

Turned  once  and  gazed,  and  then  was  gone — 
That  look— his  tenderest  and  his  last. 

His  last — for,  ere  the  week  had  sped, 

That  group,  with  sorrow  unrepressed, 
Gathered  around  their  honored  dead — 

Bore  their  Grand  Master  to  his  rest ! 


There's  tenfold  Lodges  in  the  land 
Than  when  my  days  were  few ; 

But  none  can  number  s"uch  a  band, 
The  wise,  the  bright,  the  true, 

As  stood  around  me  on  the  night, 

When  first  I  saw  the  MYSTIC  LIGHT, 
Full  fifty  years  ago. 


118  THE    VETERAN'S    LAMENT. 

There's  Brother  love  and  Brother  aid, 
Where'er  the  Craft  is  known ; 

But  none  like  that  whose  twinings  made 
The  mighty  chain  that's  gone — 

Ah,  none  like  that  which  bound  my  soul 

When  first  my  eyes  beheld  the  goal 
Full  fifty  years  ago. 

There's  emblems  green  to  deck  the  bed 

Of  Masons  where  they  rest, 
But  none  like  those  we  used  to  spread 

Upon  the  Mason's  breast, 
When,  yielding  up  to  death,  they  fell, 
Who'd  battled  with  the  monster  well, 
Full  fifty  years  ago. 

Oh,  how  my  heart  is  kindled  now, 

When  round  me  meet  again 
The  shadows  of  the  noble  few, 

Who  formed  the  mystic  train 
In  which  my  feet  were  proud  to  tread, 
When  through  admiring  crowds  we  sped, 
Full  fifty  years  ago. 

They're  fled,  that  noble  train, — they're  gone,- 
Their  last  procession's  o'er, — 

And  I  am  left  to  brood  alone. 
Ere  I,  too,  leave  the  shore ; 


WASHINGTON  119 

But  while  I  have  a  grateful  tear, 
I'll  praise  the  bright  ones  that  were  here, 
Full  fifty  years  ago. 


"  Glory  to  God,  in  courts  of  glory  high ! 

Earth,  balmy  peace !  good  will,  good  will  to  men  !" 
O'er  the  still  plain,  beneath  the  Christmas  sky 

Ring  the  glad  tidings ;  and  again,  again, 
"  Glory  to  God,  to  God  ! "  the  dewy  plain 

Echoes  the  notes ;  the  midnight  solitude, 
Wood,  mount,  and  waters,  catch  the  glowing  strain  ! 

Ah,  ne'er  was  heard  such  note  since  Satan  stood, 

Sad  hour,  in  Eden's  groves,  and  worked  to  man  no  good  I 

Heaven's  joy  that  night  was  perfect !  CHRIST  was  born ! 

IMMANTJEL,  PRINCE  OF  PEACE,  and  SON  OP  GOD  ! 
New  grief  to  demons,  wailing  and  forlorn, 

Pierced  through  their  souls  as  an  envenomed  sword 
"  To  God,  to  God  on  high  ! " — thus  the  accord — 

"  On  Earth  good  will  and  peace,  good  will  and  peace  !" 
Now  far  ascending,  singing  as  they  soared, 

The  angelic  sisters  vanish ;  echoes  cease, 

And,  from  their  mystic  trance,  the  Shepherds'  souls 
release. 


120  WASHINGTON. 

Spirits  of  peace,  since  that  bright  Christmas  eve, 

Have  oft  descended  from  the  ladder's  top, 
And  brought  to  those  who  suffer  and  believe 

The  priceless  blessings  of  the  Christian's  hope — 
That  soon  humanity  will  cease  to  grope 

In  doubts  and  darkness,  as  in  days  gone  by, 
And  follow  HIM,  the  PEACEFUL,  journeying  up, 

From  Bethlehem  to  gory  Calvary, 

Who  died  that  we  might  live,  and  lives  eternally. 

Heaven  sent  a  Washington  !  there  was  much  need — 

Ages  had  rolled  along,  and  hearts  had  bled 
And  liberty,  down-trodden  as  a  weed, 

No  shelter  found  for  her  defenceless  head  : 
Peace  lay,  like  Lazarus,  in  sepulchral  bed : — 

God  raised  up  Washington,  and  freedom  smiled  ! 
Once  more  to  yearning  hearts  the  angels  said, 

"  Good  will  to  man,  of  grace  the  favored  child  ! 

"  Good  will  to  man  ! "  that  voice  shall  never  more  be  stilled. 

On  TKESTLE-BOARD  DIVINE  the  plan  was  traced — 
The  MASTER  ARCHITECT  his  work  surveyed ; 

Each  virtue  in  its  proper  balance  placed ; 
Each  ornament  of  purest  metal  made ; 

Each  block  in  symmetry  exact  was  laid ; 
And  there  stood  Washington,  the  Mason-man  ! 

Wise  unto  warfare's  sanguinary  trade, 

Wiser  to  PEACE — such  was  the  MASTER'S  plan, 

And  Wisdom,  Beauty,  Strength,  through  all  the  Temple  ran  1 


WASHINGTON.  121 

Caution  his  cliiefest  care  ;  the  outer  gate 
Was  strictly  guarded  ;  through  its  portals  came 

Nought  that  betrayed ;  prudent,  deliberate, 
Each  messenger  bore  out  undoubted  claim 

To  instant  reverence  and  deathless  fame. 
Thus,  tyled  with  care,  his  sanctuary  kept, 

Unstained  its  altar,  unforgot  its  flame, 

While  sentinels  on  other  watch-towers  slept, 

And  Prudence  o'er  the  ills  of  sad  indifference  wept. 

Sober  in  all  things — Temperance,  the  spring 

Of  human  strength,  was  paramount  in  him ; 
There  was  no  vile  excess  or  lust  to  bring 

Untimely  feebleness  to  manly  limb, 
Or  dull  his  ear,  or  make  his  eye  grow  dim. 

Like  one  of  old,  the  Leader  through  the  sea, 
floated  no  changes  on  life's  rapid  stream ; 

Age  brought  him  death,  but  not  infirmity — 

Bore  hence  the  vigorous  frame,  unshaken  by  decay. 

How  great  his  Fortitude  !  protracted  war 

Caused  patriot  hearts  to  sink  dispirited  ; 
His  bleeding  army  cast  in  flight  before 

A  taunting  enemy ;  his  hopes  betrayed — 
How  great  his  Fortitude  !  firm,  undismayed, 

The  pillar  of  his  suffering  country  stood, 
By  night  a  glow,  by  day  refreshing  shade, 

A  column  fixed,  unshaken,  unsubdued  ! 

Plumbed  by  the  Master's  hand,  by  him  pronounced  GOOD  1 


122  WASHINGTON. 

Excellent  lie  in  Justice  ;  if  to  do, 

In  all  that  life  presents,  from  day  to  day, 
To  others  as  you  would  they  do  to  you, — 

If  this  be  Masonry,  a  Mason  he  ! 
Unswerving  to  the  right  or  left,  his  way 

"Was  onward,  upward  ;  in  his  hand  the  scale 
Of  righteousness  was  equipoised,  to  pay 

Homage  to  God— hail,  Great  Creator,  hail ! 

Justice  to  man — for  man  was  Brother  cherished  well. 

But  not  these  sterner  virtues  only  stand 

Around  this  good  man's  life ;  true  Brotherly  Love, 

Such  as  the  ancient  brethren  cherished,  and 
Relief  that  does  both  pain  and  woe  remove, 

And  Truth,  an  attribute  of  God  above, 

Clustered  like  dropping  vines  on  Washington. 

What  marvel  that  admiring  Masons  strove 
To  catch  the  light  from  such  a  matchless  sun, 
Or  claim  the  mantle,  ere  the  godlike  chief  was  gone  ! 

Henceforth  the  Christmas  song  need  not  be  stilled  ! 

The  conqueror,  ere  the  battle's  turmoil  cease, 
Turns  from  the  glory  of  the  encrimsoned  field 

And  bends  in  homage  to  the  PRINCE  OF  PEACE. 
"  Glory  to  God" — that  anthem  shall  increase, 

"  On  Earth"  such  lives  proclaim  "  Good  will  to  man  I" 
Henceforth,  when  angels  sing  IMMAXTJEL'S  grace, 

We'll  strike  the  harp,  and  recognize  the  plan ; 

Oh,  that  our  earth  might  yield  such  Temple- work  again  J 


WASHINGTON.  123 

Lo  the  sands  swiftly  run  !  behold,  our  lives 

Dropping,  like  foliage,  to  a  solemn  close  ! 
To-day  the  bud  bright  expectation  gives, 

To-morrow  blossoms  to  a  transient  rose ; 
Another  morn,  and  its  whole  beauty  goes ; 

Its  leaves  are  scattered  wastefully  around, 
No  heart  remembering ;  another  glows 

Upon  the  stem ;  another  hope  is  crowned ; 

And  this  is  human  life,  the  life  the  dead  have  found. 

Count  well  the  moments  then,  fill  up  the  day ! 

Brothers,  let  wisdom's  hand  your  life-plans  trace  ! 
The  Temple  Avill  be  finished,  though  we  may 

Not  see  the  STONE  exalted  to  its  place  : 
It  is  enough  that  God  will  see  and  bless : 

Labor  while  it  is  day ;  there's  work  for  all ; 
The  TRESTLE-BOARD  proclaims  it,  and  alas  ! 

Too  soon  will  night  spread  round  its  hueless  pall : 

Too  soon  the  grave,  the  grave  from  which  there's  no  recalL 

Clouds  may  obscure  us ;  slander  may  detract ; 

The  foes  of  truth  and  rectitude  unite ; 
But  while  within  our  mystic  sphere  we  act, 

There  lives  no  power  can  hinder  or  affright. 
The  Master's  eye  still  oversees  the  right ; 

Heaven's  books  record  it  with  angelic  pen ; 
And  when  death's  summons  calls  us  up  the  height, 

A  full  reward  for  labor  shall  we  gain, 

In  God's  own  Temple  freed  from  sorrow,  toil  and  pain. 


124  THE      THREE      SALUTES. 

Man  of  a  thousand  virtues,  Washington ! 

Thy  model,  lent  from  heaven,  we  prefer ; 
Our  deeds,  upon  that  high  design  begun, 

Shall  merit  praise,  tried  by  the  CHIEF  O'ERSEEK  : 
Master  of  men  !  hear  thou  the  Mason's  prayer ! 

Breathe  in  our  spirits  a  true  love  of  peace ; 
Teach  us  a  brother's  bonds  and  woes  to  share ; 

Enlarge  our  charity,  our  faith  increase, 
And  save  us  all  in  CHRIST,  the  Mason's  Righteousness  ! 


I  hail  you,  Brother,  La  the  place 

Where  none  but  those  should  meet 
Whose  types  are  bended  knee  and  brow, 

And  the  uncovered  feet ; 
I  take  you  by  the  grip,  expressing 

All  that  heart  can  feel, 
And  I  pledge  myself  to  be  to  you, 

A  Brother  TRUE  AS  STEEL  I 

I've  watched  with  real  joy  your  quest, 

So  ardent  and  so  rare — 
Your  bold,  unflinching  gaze  upon 

The  things  we  most  revere ; 
I've  seen  that  nothing  daunts  you 

In  the  paths  our  LIGHTS  reveal ; 
And  I  pledge  myself  again  to  you, 

A  Brother  TRUE  AS  STEEL  1 


THE     MASTER     OF     THE     UPRIGHT     HEART.      125 

I  think  there's  that  within  you 

Only  needs  for  time  to  show — 
Will  kindle  up  a  flame  where 

Others  only  feel  a  glow  ; 
I  think  the  grave  will  claim  you, 

As  a  Mason  ripe  and  leal ; 
And  so  once  more  I  pledge  myself 

A  Brother  TRUE  AS  STEEL  ! 


German  authors  describe  the  affecting  incident  given  in  the  follow- 
ing lines.  The  opening  verses  allude  to  a  journey  up  the  Mississippi 
river  in  1853,  swollen  at  that  time  out  of  its  banks,  during  which  the 
author  related  the  incident  to  his  children. 

We  journeyed  up  the  Western  flood, 

My  little  boys  and  I, 
And  watched  the  drifts  of  ice  and  wood 

That  floated  swiftly  by ; 
While  banks  and  trees  and  dwellings  too 
Appeared  like  islands  in  the  view. 

We  marked  with  sympathy  and  grief 

The  general  distress, 
And  fain  the  lads  would  give  relief 

To  every  suffering  case ; — 
But  when  a  corpse  came  floating  past 
They  fled  the  spectacle  aghast. 


126   THE  MASTER  OF  THE  UPRIGHT  HEART. 

Then  in  our  little  room  we  met 

Each  on  a  •willing  knee 
And  listened  to  the  various  fate 

Of  men  by  land  and  sea ; 
Of  shipwrecked  sailors  starved  for  food 
And  lost  ones  wandering  in  the  wood. 

I  told  them  of  such  noble  deeds 

Where  rescue  had  been  given, 
Such  generous  acts,  that  he  who  reads 

Is  moved  to  worship  heaven. 
But  most  I  pleased  them  with  the  part 
Of  Julian  of  "The  Upright  Heart." 

"  'Twas  on  a  stormy  April  day, 
The  floods  were  at  their  height, 

All  Frankfort  gather'd  out,  they  say, 
To  see  a  dismal  sight. 

A  broken  bridge — a  swollen  sea — 

And  oh,  a  drowning  family ! 

"  The  Master  of  '  The  Upright  Heart ' 

Was  Frankfort's  noblest  son : 
On  many  a  field  of  high  desert 

His  laurels  had  been  won, 
Not  laurels  wet  with  human  blood 
But  those  acceptable  to  God. 


THE  MASTER  OF  THE  UPRIGHT  HEART.   127 

"  Smiles  from  the  face  of  cold  despair, — 

The  widow's  grateful  song — 
The  orphan's  praise — the  stranger's  prayer — 

These  to  his  crown  belong ; 
Ah !  many  such,  thank  God,  there  be 
In  our  world-wide  fraternity ! 

"  Prince  Julian  galloped  to  the  brink 

Of  that  tremendous  flood ; 
The  perishing  about  to  sink 

Inspired  his  noble  blood. 
He  called  aloud,  he  called  the  brave 
This  wretched  family  to  save  ! 

"  None  answered  him ;  again  he  cried : 

'  Oh !  have  you  hearts  of  stone, 
To  see  them  perish  by  your  side  ? 

Look !  look !  they  wave  us  on  !' 
He  offered  gold  as  water  free, 
To  save  the  drowning  family ! 

"But  when  the  boldest  shrunk — deterred 

From  such  a  desperate  deed — 
He  uttered  not  another  word ; 

He  bowed  his  pious  head, 
Looked  upwards — gave  his  soul  to  God — 
And  plunged  into  the  raging  flood ! 


128  MASONIC      VALEDICTORY. 

"  That  day  the  gates  of  Heaven  were  thrown 

To  admit  a  spirit  freed  ; 
That  day  earth  lost  its  noblest  son, 

And  gave  him  to  the  dead ; 
That  day  enshrined  the  Royal  Art, 
Her  hero  of  '  The  Upright  Heart !' " 

The  lads  sat  thoughtful  on  my  knee, 

Reflecting  on  the  tale ; 
They  loved  to  talk  of  Masonry, 

And  knew  its  precepts  well ; 
"  J  Tcnmc  what  made  him  take  such  pains; 
The  signs  they  made  were  Mason's  signs  /" 


When  auld  acquaintance  closing  round, 

Their  parting  grips  entwine ; 
What  song  awakes  the  tender  sigh, 

Like  auld  lang  syne  ! 

'Tis  auld  lang  syne,  the  voice 

Of  other  days  divine ! 
Come,  Brothers,  now  a  parting  word 

To  auld  lang  syne. 


MASONIC      VALEDICTORY.  129 

From  many  a  pilgrim-pathway  come, 

To  work  the  grand  design. 
"We've  wrought,  and  praised  the  sacred  bond 

Of  auld  lang  syne. 

Of  auld  lang  syne,  the  bond 

Of  auld  lang  syne 
Our  fathers  marked  the  sacred  way 

In  auld  lang  syne. 

Though  wintry  blasts  the  flesh  may  chill, 

Though  torrid  suns  may  shine, 
Our  hearts'  response  unchanged  will  beat 

To  auld  lang  syne. 

To  auld  lang  syne,  they  beat 

To  auld  lang  syne ; 
Each  pulse  responsive,  thrilling  high, 

To  auld  lang  syne. 


Adieu,  adieu !  the  falling  tear 

To  friendship  we  assign ; 
Your  hand,  your  hand,  my  brother  dear, 

For  auld  lang  syne ! 

"For  auld  lang  syne,  adieu 

For  auld  lang  syne. 
Ah  !  rent  forever  is  the  bond 

Of  auld  lang  syne. 


At  a  New  Year's  Eve  Festival  at  Chicago,  Illinois,  1862- 3,  twenty, 
eight  Masons  sat  the  Old  Year  out  and  the  New  Year  in.  To  commem- 
orate the  pleasant  event,  a  "Memorial"  of  songs  was  published,  of 
which  the  following  was  the  Exordium. 

(The  Craft  Assemble  in  Merry  Mood.} 

High  carnival  to-night :  a  year  of  gloom, 

A  twelvemonth,  murky  with  the  fogs  of  war, 
Has  ended ;  all  its  wrecks  and  ruin  done ; 

Its  severed  bonds ;  its  Lodges,  closed  and  still : 
Its  altars  overthrown;  its  jewels  soiled; 

Its  lambskins  spotted  with  the  hue  of  blood ; — 
The  tale  of  horror,  to  its  latest  page, 

Is  done,  and  FINIS  written  at  the  close. 

High  carnival  to-night :  a  genial  band, 
About  refreshments'  Altar  circled  close, 

Brings  each  his  sacrifice  and  lays  thereon  : 

Each  brings  his  jest,  and  each  a  merry  thought, 
And  his  kind  eyes  that  speak  unuttered  love. 

High  carnival  to-night ;  pass  round  the  quip — 
Let  not  the  fire  of  wit  go  down,  nor  give 
One  moment  to  the  saddening  reign  of  care. 
No  GAVEL  here ;  no  frowning  face ;  no  voice 
Of  MASTER  to  subdue  the  craftsmen's  joys. 
'Tis  the  last  night,  last  hour  of  '62, 
And  we  will  drown  it  in  a  flood  of  mirth. 

130 


A      MASONIC      SYMPOSIUM.  131 

(The  Signal  of  Low  XII.  is  Jward.} 

But  lo,  the  clock,  'tis  midnight !  stealthy  feet 
Of  murderers  creeping  by,  fall  on  the  ear, 
And  smothered  voices  whisper  wonted  words. 
Tis  midnight !  quick,  ye  mystic  crew,  come  round- 
Close  in,  strong  men,  impenetrable  lines, 
And  weave  the  INDISSOLUBLE  CHAIN  OF  LOVE. 


(The  Midnight  Song  of  Masons.) 

Sing  now  departed  joys ;  sing  high,  ye  Craft, 
Whose  solemn  march  is  ever  timed  to  song ; 
Sing  ye  of  days,  ah  never  to  return  ! 
Of  friends  forever  parted :  sing,  with  tears, 
Of  those,  beneath  th'  Acacia  sprigs  that  sleep, 
And  let  the  last  stroke  of  the  parted  year 
Be  holv  with  remembrance  of  their  love. 


(Rail  to  the  New  Year.) 

Huzza,  sing  louder  now !  strain  every  voice 

In  honor  of  the  YEAR,  the  new-born  YEAR, 

The  blessed,  hopeful,  happy  '63 ! 

Of  all  its  health,  and  wealth,  and  bliss,  sing  high ! 

Of  wives'  love  and  of  children's,  blessed  love, 

Of  friends  and  friendship,  everything  that  God 

Can  yield  on  earth  to  His  most  favored  ones. 


132  THE      NARROW      BOUNDARY. 

(The  Prospective  View.*) 

Twelve  teeming  months  lie  spread  before  our  eyes; 

Cease  now  to  sing,  and  contemplate  their  train : 

EACH  MONTH  a  treasure  from  the  Gracious  Hand, 

Of  means  and  rich  occasions  to  do  good. 

Join  silently  in  RESOLUTION  now, 

And,  Brothers,  say,  shall  we  not,  through  this  year, 

Live  nearer  to  our  duty  ?  walk  more  true 

To  PLUMB-LINE  and  to  SQUARE  than  in  the  past  ? 

Shall  not  our  COVENANTS  join,  in  closer  bond, 

Us  to  each  other  and  the  whole  to  God  ? 


Jtomrtrarg. 


So  each  one  stands — a  narrow  line 
Divides  the  future  from  the  past — 

A  little  space  to  labor  in, 

Too  brief  for  purposes  so  vast. 

Those  grand  designs,  whose  tracing  proves 

Our  inspiration  is  from  heaven — 
Those  boundless  hopes — those  deathless  loves — 

'Tis  but  a  day  to  these  is  given  ! 

Then  let  us  labor  while  we  can — 
Throw  off  the  burdens  that  oppress — 

Redeem  this  poor  and  fleeting  span 
And  look  to  God  to  help  and  bless ! 


NEW    YEAR'S    REFLECTIONS.  133 

And  should  we  seek,  to  give  us  cheer, 

Examples  of  the  bold  and  true, 
A  cloud  of  witnesses  is  here 

To  prove  what  laboring  men  can  do. 


bfo    frar's 


Shall  we  see  it,  loving  Brothers, 
Ere  another  New  Year's  day  ? 
Shall  we  join  those  loving  others 
Whom  the  past  year  tore  away  ? 
Shall  we  change  this  toil  and  drudge, 
For  the  bright  CELESTIAL  LODGE, 

T.  C.  L.  A.  W. 
T.  S.  A.  O.  T.  U.  P.  ? 

Shall  we  tread  that  one  more  station, 

Take  that  last  and  best  degree 
Whose  consummate  "  Preparation  " 
Is  to  set  the  spirit  free  ? 

Lay  our  bodies  off  that  then 
Souls  unburdened  may  go  in, 

T.  C.  L.  A.  W. 
T.  S.  A.  O.  T.  U.  P.  ? 


134  NEW    YEAR'S    REFLECTIONS. 

Shall  we  find  beyond  the  river — 
Shall  we  find  beyond  the  tomb, 
Those  who  left  us,  not  forever, 
Left  us  till  we  too  should  come  ? 
Shall  we  learn  the  long-lost  WORD. 
That  admits  a  man  to  GOD — 

T.  C.  L.  A.  TV. 
T.  S.  A.  O.  T.  U.  P.  ? 

Then,  be  zealous,  loving  Brothers, 

While  your  lives  so  swiftly  tend ; 
Emulate  those  faithful  others 
In  the  prizes  they  have  gained ; 
O'er  the  river,  on  the  shore, 
They  are  happy  evermore, 

T.  C.  L.  A.  W. 
T.  S.  A.  O.  T.  U.  P. 

Toil, — your  wages  rich  are  ready ; 

Bear, — your  burdens  all  shall  cease ; 
Give, — however  poor  and  needy ; 
Pray, — and  God  will  give  release 
From  this  bitter  toil  and  drudge 
To  the  bright  CELESTIAL  LODGE,. 

T.  C.  L.  A.  W. 
T.  S.  A.  O.  T.  U.  P.  1 


We  whisper  good  counsel  in  the  ear  of  a  Brother,  and,  in  the  most 
tender  manner,  remind  him  of  his  faults  and  endeavor  to  aid  his  refor- 
mation. 

Where  is  thy  Brother,  Craftsman,  say, 
Where  is  the  erring  one  to-day  ? 
We  look  around  the  festive  band, — 
What  cheerful  smiles  on  every  hand  ! 
The  voice  of  laughter  swells  amain — 
Where  is  the  brightest  of  the  train  ? 
The  ready  wit,  the  generous  word, 
The  glee  in  music's  best  accord, 
The  bounteous  gifts — oh  where  is  he, 
The  prince  of  Mason's  revelry  ? 
Not  left  unwarned  in  death  to  fall  ? 
To  lapse  without  one  friendly  call  ? 

Alas,  the  grave  has  closed  above 
So  many  objects  of  our  love ! 
There  is  so  many  a  vacant  chair 
In  every  group  where  Masons  are ! 
Of  some  the  drunkard's  cup  doth  tell : 
Tempted,  yet  sorrowing  t tiey  fell ; 
Day  after  day  they  saw  the  light 
Recede,  till  day  was  turned  to  night ; 
Yet  yearned  and  strove  to  pause,  and  stay 
Their  feet  upon  the  slippery  way ; 
They  fell,  and  none  so  bright  are  left 
As  those  of  whom  we  are  bereft. 


136  A     WELCOME      INTO      MASONRY. 

A  voice  from  out  the  grave  demands — 
"Where  is  thy  Brother?  are  thy  hands, 
Quite  guiltless  of  his  priceless  blood  ? 
How  often  have  ye  kindly  stood, 
And  whispered  loving  word  and  prayer, 
Within  the  erring  Brother's  ear  ? 
How  often  counseled,  plead,  and  warned, 
And  from  approaching  danger  turned  ?  " 
The  thoughtful  tear,  the  heavy  sigh, 
Must  speak  for  conscience  a  reply : 
Quick  then,  oh  Craftsman,  up  and  save 
TTie  living  from  untimely  grave  ! 


Widtamt  mto 


Directed  to  one  who  subsequently  acquired  a  distinguished 
aa  a  Masonic  writer. 


There  were  many  with  me  were  glad,  Brother, 

When  we  read  your  later  thought, 
And  to  one  another  we  said,  Brother, 

'Tis  an  omen  of  good  import ! 
For  the  battle  of  law  has  begun,  Brother, 

The  strife  for  "  the  good  old  way," 
And  we  need  just  such  an  one,  Brother, 

As  we  knew  you  of  old  to  be ! 


A      WELCOME      INTO      MASONRY.  137 

Yes,  one  of  the  daring  type,  Brother — 

Such  men  as  they  had  of  yore, 
With  a  head  that  in  age  is  ripe,  Brother, 

And  a  heart  that  is  brimming  o'er ; 
To  know  what  a  LANDMARK  is,  Brother — 

In  love  to  be  warm  and  true — 
Oh,  how  have  we  longed  for  these,  Brother, 

And  'tis  these  we  shall  find  in  you ! 

In  the  day  when  your  sands  are  spent,  Brother, 

And  the  Craft  shall  your  history  tell, 
They'll  say,  as  their  grief  has  vent,  Brother, 

"  He  has  done  his  labor  well !" 
For  you  know  we  have  ARCHIVES,  Brother, 

And  a  COLUMN  rent  in  twain, 
And  a  NAME  that  still  greenly  lives,  Brother, 

Though  the  dust  hath  its  dust  again ! 

And  these  they'll  give  to  you,  Brother, 

As  the  guerdon  of  your  meed ; 
For  the  love  that  is  warm  and  true,  Brother, 

For  the  heart  and  for  the  head ; 
For  the  battle  of  law  has  begun,  Brother, 

The  strife  for  "  the  good  old  way," 
And  we  need  just  such  an  one  as  you,  Brother, 

As  we  know  you  of  old  to  be ! 


Jjibibmg  ijr 

The  ancient  practice  of  sealing  a  devoted  friendship  between  part- 
ing friends,  by  separating  some  metallic  substance,  as  a  ring,  a  coin  and 
the  like,  and  dividing  the  fragments  between  the  parties,  is  not  alto- 
gether disused.  In  the  rural  districts  of  England  and  Scotland  it  is 
a  custom  of  lovers,  and  many  a  poor  laborer  whose  body  lies  buried  in 
the  soil  of  the  Western  Continent,  bore  upon  his  person  at  his  dying 
hour  this  token  of  betrothal  with  one  who  shall  never  again  meet  him  on 
earth. 

As  a  Masonic  practice,  we  could  wish  it  were  more  common.  It  is 
ancient,  more  ancient  than  any  other  manner  of  expressing  friendship 
at  parting.  It  is  suitable  to  the  symbolical  character  of  our  lessons. 
To  rescue  it  from  its  present  position  as  a  mere  amatory  token,  were 
worthy  of  our  most  accomplished  writers. 

The  following  verses  relate  to  an  incident  in  the  history  of  two 
orphan  youth,  adopted  and  educated  by  a  benevolent  widow  in  New 
Jersey.  They  became  Masons  at  the  same  communication,  were  deeply 

ind,  when 


indoctrinated  in  the  symbolic  beauties  of  $he  Royal  Art,  a 
they  parted  to  pursue  different  fortunes — one  to  fill  an  honorable  post 
in  the  army  in  Mexico,  the  other  an  officer  on  board  an  India  Mer- 
chantman— they  divided  a  golden  ring  between  them,  as  a  Tessera, 
and  each  suspended  a  portion  nearest  his  heart.  They  never  met 
again.  They,  of  whom  it  had  been  said,  as  of  the  early  Christian?, 
that  "they  possessed  all  things  in  common,"  fill  graves  as  widely 
separated  as  the  east  is  from  the  west.  The  lady  whose  charity  gave 
them  education,  and  the  opportunity  for  usefulness  and  distinction,  has 
now  in  her  possession  both  the  golden  fragments,  sent  her  with  dying 
messages — the  one  from  Vera  Cruz,  the  other  from  Ceylon. 

Parting  on  the  sounding  shore 

Brothers  twain  were  sighing ; 
Mingle  with  the  ocean's  roar, 

Words  of  love  undying ; 
A  ring  of  gold  was  severed  then 

And  each  to  each  the  giver, 
His  faith  renewed  in  mystic  sign 

And  bound  his  heart  forever. 


DIVIDING      THE      TESSERA.  139 

"  Broken  thus  THE  TOKEN  be, 

"While  o'er  earth  we  wander ; 
One  to  thee  and  one  to  me — 

Rudely  torn  asunder ; 
But  though  divided  we  are  one — 

This  scar  the  bond  expresses, 
When  all  our  painful  wandering's  done, 

"Will  close  and  leave  no  traces ! 


"  Warmly  in  thy  bosom  hide, 

The  golden  voice,  /  love  thee  ! 
Keep  it  there  whate'er  betide, 

To  guard  thee  and  to  prove  thee  ! 
And  should  THE  TOKEN  e'er  be  lost, 

Or  chilled,  what  now  is  riven, 
I'll  know  that  death  has  sent  the  frost 

And  look  for  thee  in  heaven !" 

Parted  on  the  sounding  shore, 

Each  THE  TOKEN  keeping, 
Met  those  Brothers  never  more — 

In  death  they're  widely  sleeping. 
But  yet  love's  victory  was  won, — 

The  scar  that  bond  expresses, — 
Their  long  and  painful  wandering's  done — 

Hath  closed  and  left  no  traces ! 


The  custom  of  lodge-refreshment,  time-honored  and  sanctioned  by 
the  example  of  the  noblest  and  best  of  American  Masons,  might  well 
be  renewed.  The  Order  with  us  has  too  much  of  the  pulpit  and  too 
little  of  the  table.  A  due  intermixture  of  both  was  what  the  Craft  in 
the  olden  time  regarded. 

There's  Pillars  II.  and  Columns  V. 

Support  and  grace  our  halls  of  truth. 
But  none  such  sparkling  pleasure  give 
As  the  Column  that  adorns  the  S'. 

"HIGH  XH."  the  Junior  Warden  calls— 

His  Column  grants  the  festive  hour, 
And  through  our  antiquated  halls, 
Rich  streams  of  social  gladness  pour. 

'Tis  then,  all  toil  and  care  forgot, 

The  Bond  indissoluble  seems : 
'Tis  then  the  world's  a  happy  spot, 

And  hope,  unmixed  with  sadness,  gleams. 
HIGH  XH. :  I've  shared  the  festive  hour 

With  those  who  realize  the  bliss, 

And  felt  that  life  contains  no  more 

Than  sparkles  in  the  joys  of  this. 

What  memories  hover  round  the  tune ! 

What  forms  rise  up  to  call  it  blest ! 
Departed  Friends :  why  should  it  dim 

Our  joys  to  know  that  they're  at  rest ! 


THE      CHECKERED      PAVEMENT.  141 

HIGH  XII. !  how  they  rejoiced  to  hear ! 

Quickly  each  implement  laid  down, 
Glad  to  exchange  for  toil  and  care 

And  heavy  CROSS,  a  heavenly  CROWN  I 

The  Comrades  all,  by  3  x  3, 

Linked  in  the  golden  chain  of  Truth, 
A  hearty  welcome  pledge  with  me 
To  the  Column  that  adorns  the  S' ! 
HIGH  XTT. ;  and  never  be  the  hour 

Less  free,  less  brotherly  than  now ! 
HIGH  Xll, :  a  rich  libation  pour 

To  joys  that  none  but  Masons  know ! 


There  is  no  emblem  teaches  a  more  practical  every-day  lesson  to  a 
Freemason  than  the  Mosaic  pavement,  denoting  human  life  checkered 
with  good  and  evil. 

/,  on  the  WHITE  SQUARE,  you  on  the  BLACK  ; 
/  at  fortune's  face,  you  at  her  lack; 
Friends  to  me  many,  friends  to  you  few  ; 
What,  then,  dear  Brother,  binds  me  to  you  ? 

This,  THE  GREAT  COVENANT  in  which  we  abide — 
HEARTS  charged  with  sympathy — 

HANDS  opened  wide — 
LIPS  filled  with  comfort, 
And  GOD  to  provide. 


142  THE      CHECKERED      PAVEMENT. 

/,  in  life's  valley,  you  on  its  crest  ; 

I  at  its  lowest,  you  at  its  lest ; 

I  sick  and  sorrowing,  you  hale  and  free  ; 

What,  then,  dear  Brother,  binds  you  to  me  ? 

This,  THE  GREAT  COVENANT  in  which  we  abide — 

HEARTS  charged  with  sympathy — 

HANDS  opened  wide — 

LIPS  filled  with  comfort, 

And  GOD  to  provide. 

They  in  death's  slumber,  we  yet  alive ; 
They  freed  from  labor,  we  yet  to  strive ; 
They  paid  and  joyful,  we  tired  and  sad — 
What,  then,  to  us,  Brother,  bindeth  the  dead? 

This,  THE  GREAT  COVENANT  in  which  we  abide — 
HEARTS  charged  with  sympathy — 

HANDS  opened  wide — 
LIPS  filled  with  comfort, 
And  GOD  to  provide. 

Let  none  be  comfortless,  let  none  despair ; 

Lo  round  the  Black  grouped  the  White  Ashlars  are  ! 

Stand  by  each  other,  black  fortune  defy, 

All  these  vicissitudes  end  by  and  by. 

Keep  THE  GREAT  COVENANT  wherein  we  abide — 
"  HEARTS  charged  with  sympathy — 

HANDS  opened  wide — 
LIPS  filled  with  comfort, 
Ancl  GOD  will  provide !" 


orus  of 


It  is  admitted  by  lecturers  and  Masonic  speakers,  that  the  true 
acoustical  focus  of  the  lodge  is  near  the  Northeast  corner.  This  is 
attributed  to  the  fact  that  it  was  there  each  of  us  received  those  first 
impressions  on  which  to  build  our  future  moral  and  masonic  edifice. 
Certainly  in  no  other  part  of  the  room  can  the  speaker  give  utterance, 
so  truly  and  eloquently,  to  the  genuine  sentiments  of  the  Order;  and 
the  unhappy  debates  which  sometimes  disturb  the  harmony  of  our 
meetings,  would  be  obviated  were  speakers  required  to  take  their 
stand  at  the  focus  of  the  lodge  ! 

Oh,  when  before  the  lodge  we  stand, 

Its  walls  hung  round  with  mystic  lines, 
And  for  the  loving,  listening  band, 

Draw  truth  and  light  from  those  designs  ;  — 
See  ox  THE  EIGHT,  the  Open  Word, 

Which  lendeth  grace  to  every  thought  ! 
See  ON  THE  LEFT,  the  Mason's  lord  ! 

Tis  chosen  well,  the  sacred  spot  ! 


For  there  our  youthful  minds  received 

The  earliest  impress  of  that  light, 
Whose  perfect  radiance,  believed, 

Will  lead  the  soul  to  Heavenly  height. 
Around  the  spot  there  clusters  much 

Of  Masons'  lore ;  and  dull  were  he 
Who,  standing  in  the  light  of  such, 

Cannot  unveil  our  Mystery. 


144  THE      DECAYED      LODGE. 

If  in  Instruction's  voice  there  come 

A  tone  of  hatred,  if,  alas, 
The  love  and  music  of  our  home 

Be  changed  to  discord  and  disgrace, — 
'Tis  that  the  speaker  has  forgot 

The  solemn  words  first  uttered  there, — 
His  feet  have  left  the  sacred  spot, 

His  heart  and  tongue  no  wisdom  bear. 

But  when  the  soul  is  kindled  high, 

With  love,  such  love  as  angels  know — 
And  when  the  tongue  trips  lightly  by 

The  truth  and  love  our  emblems  show ; — 
When  round  the  lodge,  the  eye  and  cheek 

Prove  how  congenial  is  the  theme, 
No  further  need  the  speaker  seek — 

Good  spirits  stand  and  speak  with  him ! 


These  walls  are  tottering  to  decay ; 

There's  dampness  on  the  stair ; 
But  well  I  mind  me  of  the  day 

When  two-score  men  met  here : 
When  two-score  brothers  met  at  night, 

The  full  round  Moon  above, 
To  weave  the  mystic  chain  of  light 

With  holy  links  of  love. 


THE      DECAYED      LODGE.  145 

But  now  the  lightest  of  the  train, 

In  early  grave  is  bowed ; 
The  chain  is  broke,  the  holy  chain — 

The  MASTER'S  with  his  GOD  ! 
The  wailing  notes  were  heard  one  day, 

Where  cheerful  songs  are  best, 
And  two-score  Brothers  bore  away 

Their  MASTER  to  his  rest. 

The  SOUTH,  that  pleasant  voice,  is  still, 

That  spoke  the  joys  of  noon ; 
The  WEST,  that  told  the  Master's  will, 

Has  set  as  sets  the  sun. 
The  sun  may  rise,  may  stand,  may  fall, 

But  these  will  stand  no  more — 
No  more  the  faithful  craft  to  call, 

Or  scan  their  labors  o'er. 

I'll  weep  the  rending  of  this  chain, 

As  JESUS  wept  his  love ! 
This  haunted  spot !  what  shall  restrain 

The  tears  these  memories  move ! 
Where  two-score  Brothers  met  at  night, 

There's  solitude  and  gloom ; 
Let  grief  its  sacred  train  invite 

To  this  old  haunted  room. 


C{p  gwlist 

A  brother,  known  and  beloved  for  his  Masonic  and  general  worth, 
and  had  in  fraternal  contemplation  for  the  highest  honors  of  the  Craft, 
was  killed  in  a  duel.  His  lodge,  though  warmly  solicited,  refused  to 
bury  him  with  Masonic  honors,  but  accompanied  his  remains  to  the 
grave  in  citizens'  apparel. 

Hark,  how  the  air  resounds  with  death ! 

Lo,  to  the  tomb  a  Mason  conies ! 
But  where  is  the  "badge  the  Mason  hath — 
Type  of  a  life  beyond  the  tombs  ? 
Is  there  not  one  in  all  the  band, 
»  Owns  him  a  Brother  now ! 

Speak,  ye  that  weep  around  the  bier, 
And  say  where  the  honors  were  his  due ! 

How  he  was  loved  these  tear-drops  show — 

How  he  was  honored  midst  our  band ; 
For  he  had  a  heart  for  every  woe, 
For  each  distress  a  liberal  hand. 
Bright  in  the  East  our  rising  sun, 
Proud  viewed  we  his  career ; — 
But  now  that  to-day  his  race  is  run, 
"We  fling  no  Cassia  on  his  bier. 

Whispering  low  the  cause  we  yield — 

History  of  his  unworthy  death — 
False  honor  called  him  to  the  field 

And  death  the  erring  Brother  met ! 


THE      TRACING-BOARD.  147 

No  dirge  from  us  can  o'er  him  swell, 

No  banners  round  him  wave  ; 
Emblem  of  faith  we  dare  not  strew 

Upon  the  sad,  self-murderer's  grave. 

'Ceases  the  knell  of  sorrow  now — 

But  long  will  the  Leavy  sigh  be  drawn  ; 
Vacant  the  East !  ah,  heavy  woe  ! 
Our  Wisdom,  Strength  and  Beauty  gone. 
But  worst  the  grief  this  thought  will  bring 

To  our  fraternal  home — 
Brightest  and  dearest,  thou  art 
Dishonored  to  an  early  tomb  ! 


The  following  was  composed  to  be  accompanied,  in  the  recitation, 
by  the  emblems  respectively  named.  Twelve  of  these  are  selected  as 
the  most  significant  of  the  furniture  and  jewels  of  the  lodge. 

Tools  and  implements  of  Architecture  are  selected  to  imprint  on 
the  memory  wise  and  serious  truths. 

A  bundle  of  Maxims,  quaint,  ancient  and  true, 
A  Code  of  good  morals  for  me,  Sirs,  and  you, 
To  warn  us  and  guide  us  in  what  we  shall  do. 

The  SQUARE  is  Morality,  just  and  benign — 

The  LEVEL,  Equality,  nature's  design — 

The  PLUMB,  it  is  Rectitude  speaks  in  that  line. 


148  THE      TRACING-BOARD. 

The  swift  flight  of  Time,  by  the  HOUR-GLASS  shown, 
The  GAUGE  so  distributes  that  each  hath  its  own — 
The  COMPASS  restricts  us  to  Prudence  alone. 

The  TROWEL  is  Peace,  of  all  lessons  the  best — 
The  GAVEL,  excrescences  helps  to  divest — 
The  SHEAF,  Masons'  wages  assures  us  and  rest. 

The  CABLE-TOW  speaks  of  a  COVENANT  sure — 
The  APRON  sweet  innocence,  lamb-like  and  pure — 
The  DAGGER  of  what  the  true  heart  will  endure. 

What  riches  of  wisdom  and  treasures  of  bliss ! 

Instructed  by  them  none  can  labor  amiss ; 

If  tempted  with  passion,  be  cautioned  by  this  ! 

When  discord  appears,  spread  the  Cement  of  love ! 
When  vice  would  o'ercome  you  this  Monitor  prove, 
When  falling,  from  this  learn  uprightly  to  move ! 

Should  death  be  forgotten,  recall  the  great  theme, 
For  lo,  life  is  passing  in  this  passing  stream ! 
With  Fervency  toil,  ere  your  wages  you  claim ! 

Blest  Purity's  spirit,  celestial  and  clean 
Unsoiled  by  life's  errors,  this  emblem  is  seen ! 
With  this  clear  the  conscience  of  all  that  is  mean  I 

One  third  of  the  day  give  to  Mercy  and  Prayer ! 

Remember  the  Covenant's  registered  there  ! 

Let  this  speak  of  Judgment  and  traitors,  beware ! 


FELLOW      CRAFTS'      SONG.  149 

A  bundle  of  Maxims,  quaint,  ancient  and  true, 
A  Code  of  good  morals  for  me,  Sirs,  and  you, 
To  warn  us  and  guide  us  in  what  we  shall  do. 


dlate  Crafts' 


Founded  upon  the  scriptural  passage  appropriate  to  this  Degree, 
viz.,  Amos  vii,  7,  8. 

His  laws  inspire  our  being — 

Our  light  is  from  His  sun  ; 
Beneath  the  EYE  ALL-SEEING, 

Our  Mason's  work  is  done  : 
His  Plumb-line  in  uprightness 

Our  faithful  guide  shall  be ; 
And  in  the  SOUKCE  of  BRIGHTNESS 

Our  willing  eyes  shall  see. 

THOTJ,  FATHER,  art  the  Giver 

To  every  earnest  prayer  ! 
O,  be  the  GUIDE  forever 

To  this,  our  Brother  dear! 
By  law  and  precept  holy, 

By  token,  word,  and  sign, 
Exalt  him,  now  so  lowly, 

Upon  this  GRAND  DESIGN. 


150  THE      TEACHER      TO      HIS      PUPILS. 

Within  thy  Chamber  name  him 

A  WORKMAN,  wise  and  true ! 
While  loving  Crafts  shall  claim  him 

In  bonds  of  friendship  due : 
Thus  shall  these  walls  extol  THEE 

And  future  ages  prove 
What  Masons  ever  call  THEE, 

THE  GOD  OF  TRUTH  AND  LOVE  ! 


The  first  session  of  the  NATIONAL  MASONIC  SCHOOL  OF  INSTRUCTION, 
at  Louisville,  Kentucky,  May,  1859,  was  a  scene  of  great  interest  to 
the  participants.  The  assemblage  was  large  and  enthusiastic,  repre- 
senting many  portions  of  the  country.  As  a  Farewell,  the  writer 
made  the  following  his  Valedictory  as  President  of  the  School : 

From  the  hills  of  old  Virginia,  from  the  meadows  fat  and  rare, 
From  the  banks  of  broad  Ohio,  and  of  others  broad  and  fair, — 
From  the  borders  of  our  neighboring  States,  true  neighbors  each 

they  stand, 
You  have  come  responsive,  Brothers,  and  have  gripped  me  by 

the  hand. 

You  have  brought  me  words  of  greeting, — words  I  never  can 

forget;— 
Have  given  me  light  my  eyes  will  see  till  life's  poor  sun  has 

set;— 

You  have  told  with  signs  significant,  your  messages  so  true, 
And  now,  at  parting,  one  kind  word  I  offer.  Friends,  to  you. 


THE      TEACHER      TO      HIS      PUPILS.  151 

A  goodly  group  around  us !  the  thoughtful  air  of  Greene — 
The  cheerful  gaze  of  Webster, — and  Williams'  modest  mien, — 
The  chivalry  of  Bullock,  that  courteous  look  and  bow, — 
The  sterling  sense,  the  honest  voice,  the  gentleness  of  Howe. 

These  are  the  types  of  all  who've  sat  unwearied  'neath  the  voice 
That  told  of  Masons'  labors  and  of  Masons'  w"ell-earned  joys ; 
Deep  in  the  souls  of  these  have  sunk  th'  unchangeable  and  true, 
The  mighty  COVENANTS  that  bind,  dear  Brothers,  me  and  you. 

Here  too,  those  welcomed  lights  have  shone,  ay,  welcome  as  the 

sun, 

Whose  fame  as  skillful  builders  has  in  distant  lands  been  won — 
The  veterans  Penn  and  Norris,  Tracey,  vigilant  and  leal, 
And  Hunt,  the  genial-hearted,  and  Bayless,  true  as  steel. 

To  all  who  work  as  these  work,  to  all  who  lone  like  them, 

To  all  who  luild  as  they  build  the  NEW  JERUSALEM, 

Be  wages  such  as  they  shall  have,  when  standing  in  the  West 

They  hear  the  Master  call  them,  "Come,  ye  faithful,  to  your 

rest." 

True,  zealous,  loving  men  !  on  this  tempestuous,  rocky  shore 
I  may  not  meet — ah  sad  to  think — not  meet  or  greet  you  more ; 
Each  day  speaks  louder  in  my  ears  the  uncertainties  of  time, 
And  death  amidst  life's  music  louder  peals  his  solemn  chime. 

Then  each  FAREWELL  !  bear  homeward  LIGHT  our  fathers  well, 

approved, 

Set  up  the  Pillars,  rear  the  Walls; — 'twas  work  our  fathers  loved: 
Time  will  your  fond  devotion  to  unending  ages  tell ; 
God  will  o'ersee  and  bless  you !  Brothers,  faithfully,  farewell ! 


Crilmi*  10  a  Jfrmtfr. 

WRITTEN-  IN  1859. 

Dear  Brother,  'tis  no  light  design, 
Inspires  this  desultory  line — 
When  gratitude  and  love  combine 

There's  surely  something  in  it ! 
My  thoughts  involuntary  flow 
To  that  bright  season  spent  with  you ; 
A  tribute  to  the  same  is  due 

And  now  I  will  begin  it. 

If  I  should  change  my  homestead  place 
From  Old  Kentucky  turn  my  face, 
I  do  with  truthfulness  confess 

An  Alabama  notion : 
Such  ardor  in  our  noble  cause, — 
Such  knowledge  of  our  ancient  laws — 
The  very  memory  of  it  draws 

My  soul  with  strong  emotion. 

And  you  with  ripest  wisdom  fraught 

You,  mild,  experienced,  firm — who've  brought 

The  hearts  of  all  to  love,  and  taught 

Them  "Wisdom,  Strength,  and  Beauty — 
Of  all  the  thousands  whom  I  know 
Co-laborers  on  the  Mountain's  brow, 
Around  our  mystic  Temple,  few 

Perform  like  you  their  duty ! 


THE      TWO      VISITS.  153 

Clopton  and  Wood : — God  bless  the  twain ! 
There's  hope  while  such  as  they  remain, 
Whose  every  thought  and  word  is  gain 

To  the  old  Craft  that  love  them  ! 
Far  hence  their  final  summons  be — 
May  children's  children  crown  their  knee, 
And  grateful  tears  bedew  the  tree 

That's  set  at  last  above  them  ! 


Visits. 


I  saw  him  first  one  snowy  winter  night  — 

But  summer's  fire  glowed  in  his  youthful  breast  — 

A  humble  seeker  for  Masonic  light, 
A  pilgrim  journeying  for  Masonic  rest  : 

From  the  bright  orient  southward  to  the  west 
Darkly  he  journeyed,  while  our  eyes  inquired 

If  form,  and  heart,  and  garb  fulfilled  our  test  ? 
From  the  ordeal  he  came,  as  one  inspired, 
And  glad  amongst  us  stood,  enlightened  and  attired. 

Once  more  I  saw  him  —  but  his  eyes  were  hid, 
Hoodwinked  by  death  ;  as  with  an  iron  band 

His  limbs  were  fettered  ;  'neath  the  coffin-lid 
The  strong  man  lay  extended,  and  his  hand 

Whose  grip  had  thrilled  me,  ah  !  how  dead  it  spanned 


154  THE      TWO      VISITS. 

His  pulseless  breast !  yet  round  our  brother's  head 
Thrice  we  encircled,  though  with  grief  unmanned, 
And  with  respectful  tenderness  we  spread 
Upon  his  breast  green  sprigs,  fit  presents  to  the  dead. 

For  he  had  journeyed  further,  learned  a  lore 
Profounder,  drank  in  purer  light  than  we, 

And  of  desired  treasure  gathered  more 
Than  dwells  in  all  the  mines  of  Masonry  ! 

What  unto  us  is  veiled  in  mystery 

Was  real  to  him,  and  by  his  Master's  side, 

Knowing  as  he  was  known,  the  dead  was  free  ! 
Therefore  we  paid  our  homage  to  the  dead, 
And  "  we  shall  meet  again  our  Brother  dear  "  we  said. 

And  we  shall  meet  again,  not  as  in  quest 

Of  light  Masonic,  nor  as  in  that  time 
When  last  I  saw  him  pallid  in  his  rest, 

But  in  a  Lodge  transcendently  sublime ! 
Death  there  shall  ring  no  funeral  chime — 

No  weeping  band  shall  go  about  its  dead, — 
But  light  and  life  inspire  an  endless  hymn : 

Ah  happy  we  whose  very  grave  may  shed 

Effulgent  hope  and  joy  as  round  its  brink  we  tread ! 


grotbtr's  fast  35*qi»st. 

A  Freemason  dying,  sent  a  message  to  the  writer,  asking  him  to 
come  and  pronounce  the  Masonic  Eulogv  over  his  remains.  But  the 
distance  was  too  great  and  the  message  too  long  delayed. 


How  tender  must  the  love  of  Masons  be 

When  in  the  dying  moment  they  can  think 

Of  one  another !  few  the  human  ties 

That  are  not  severed  by  the  approach  of  death ! 

He  quenches  common  friendships !  blunts  the  edge 

Of  mere  acquaintance !  rends  the  cable-tow 

Of  social  ties  or  scatters  them  like  chaff! 

But  on  the  love  of  Masons — golden  chain, 

Stronger  than  iron — death  can  lay  no  hand ! 

Powerless,  conquered,  stingless,  hateful  death ! 

Brother !  when  straggling  thus  in  the  last  fight — 

That  fight  I  too  must  struggle  in  and  soon — 

Did  you  remember  me  ?  did  the  bright  hours 

We  sat  together  midst  the  Sons  of  Light 

Come  o'er  your  spirit  like  a  happy  dream  ? 

Did  you  recall  the  Mason-songs  we  sung  ? 

Or  what  in  sweet  Companionship  was  told 

Of  gentle  Ruth  and  loving  Martha  pure 

While  from  the  sisters  round  came  answering  tears  ? 


156  A      FESTIVAL      ODE. 

Those  scenes  delightful  I  can  ne'er  forget ! 

Would  I  had  seen  you  in  the  conquering  hour 

That  I,  too,  might  prepare  for  victory  ! 

If  the  blest  spirits  of  the  just  return 

To  this  cold  world,  if  Mason-love  hath  power 

To  call  one  visitor  from  brighter  scenes, 

May  I  have  grace  with  God  to  see  again, 

When  I  shall  die,  those  whom  I  loved  below ! 

To  tell  me  how  they  won  the  victory 

And  what  the  joys  that  wait  me  in  the  skies ! 


Hark,  from  the  lofty  dome, 
Hark,  from  the  Mason's  home 

Comes  a  sweet  song : 
Words  full  of  mystery, 
Virtue  and  charity, 
Tuned  unto  melody 

Rise  from  the  throng. 

Chorus. — Joy,  the  Masons'  year  is  ended, 

Freres  of  St.  John ! 
Joy,  which  every  month  attended, 
Pains  with  brightest  pleasures  blended, 

Ended  and  gone ; 

Crafts  of  the  temple,  to  your  altar  throng, 
Children  of  light,  upraise  the  festive  song. 


A      FESTIVAL      ODE.  157 

Come,  oh  ye  newly  made, 
Late  to  our  altar  led, 

Hasten,  oh  youth ; 
Gone  is  the  gloomy  night, 
Sweet  is  the  mystic  light, 
Broke  on  the  dazzled  sight, 

Glowing  with  truth. 

Age,  with  the  locks  of  snow, 
Time's  burden  bending  low, 

Fathers,  oh  come ; 
Welcome  the  veteran  here — 
With  every  added  year, 
Dearer  and  yet  more  dear, 

To  Masons'  home. 

Master,  your  toil  is  done ; 
Brethren,  the  prize  is  won ; 

Hail  the  new  year ; 
Pledge  every  soul  again, 
Strengthen  the  mystic  chain, 
Long  may  the  lodge  remain 

Without  a  peer. 


Centennial 


How  the  souls  of  friends  departed 

Brood  around  this  joyful  scene  ! 

Tender,  brave,  and  faithful-hearted, 

They  have  left  their  memories  green. 

Could  we  view  them, 
Smiles  upon  each  face*  were  seen. 

As  they  scan  our  gladsome  meeting, 

It  recalls  a  thousand  joys  : 
As  they  list  our  cheerful  greeting, 

'Tis  to  them  a  glorious  voice  : 
'Tis  the  echo 

Of  a  hundred  years  of  joys  ! 

One  by  one  those  loved  ones  perished, 
But  they  left  the  chain  still  wound  ; 

Every  virtue  that  they  cherished 
Here  is  found  as  here  they  found  : 

Thus  in  heaven 
Blessed  souls  to  ours  are  bound. 

So  shall  we,  tho'  long  departed, 
When  a  hundred  years  are  sped, 

Join  the  brave  and  faithful-hearted, 
Who  around  this  lodge  shall  tread  ; 

And  our  memories 
Shall  be  cherished  here,  though  dead. 

158 


of 


Over  the  grave  of  the  Hon.  Henry  Gee,  Past  Grand  Master  of  < 
Masons  in  Florida,  is  a  marble  monument  of  rare  beauty  and  pro- 
priety. The  writer  visited  the  spot,  January  24,  1858.  The  place  of 
interment  was  selected  by  the  deceased  ;  it  is  in  a  grove  of  oaks  near 
the  verge  of  a  hill.  The  birds  sing  their  sweetest  through  the  Florida 
winters,  and  the  evergreens,  whose  brightness  is  reflected  upon  the 
marble  surface  of  the  monument,  give  no  indications  of  mortality. 

"  May  I,  when  given  to  dust,  be  laid 
In  the  o'erarching  oak-trees'  shade  ! 
Not  inidst  the  crowded  ranks  of  those 
In  life  commingled,  friends  or  foes  ; 
Not  'neath  the  dust  of  trampling  feet  ; 
Not  where  the  mourners  frequent  meet  ; 
But  far  from  life's  poor  turmoil,  laid 
In  the  o'erarching  oak-trees'  shade." 


'Tis  done ;  this  sweet  retired  scene 

Is  nature's  own  delightful  green ; 

No  voice  but  the  lamenting  dove 

That  sighs  and  murmurs  of  its  love ; 

No  footsteps  but  the  tender  tread 

Of  those  who  loved,  who  love  the  dead; 

No  passion  but  the  sigh  subdued, 

Breathed  for  the  friend  who's  gone  to  God. 


160  GRAVE      OF      THE      GRAND      MASTER. 

The  pilgrim,  dusty  from  a  path, 
That  circles  round  the  weary  earth, 
Stands  mutely  pleased : — 'Twas  well  to  place 
The  MASTER  on  a  couch  like  this ! 
The  BUILDERS,  scattered  as  they  be, 
Sleeping  on  plain,  and  mount,  and  sea, 
Dispersed  until  the  trumpet's  blast — 
Few  of  them  have  such  fitting  rest. 


How  searchingly  that  awful  EYE 
Reads  the  impress  of  memory ! 
Death  cannot  hide  a  brother  dead, 
But  the  OMNISCIENT  EYE  will  read 
Each  act,  each  word,  each  secret  thought, 
Through  a  long  life  conceived  or  wrought ; 
Well  for  the  sleeper  if  his  life 
Endure  a  scrutiny  so  rife ! 

But  thou,  oh,  MASTER  of  the  craft, 
A  spotless  memory  hath  left ; 
The  pitying  heart,  the  loving  soul, 
The  liberal  hand  to  crown  the  whole. 
And  zeal  in  toils  of  mystic  plan, 
Which  honor  God  and  honor  man — 
These  are  thy  jewels — they  will  try 
The  ken  of  the  ALL-SEEING  EYE. 


RISE   UP:   HE   CALLETH   THEE.        161 

Rest  peaceful,  then,  while  Nature  sighs, 
And  graces  where  thy  body  lies ! 
Lift  high  that  column  many  a  year, 
To  call  the  grateful  BUILDERS  near ! 
Wait  patient  for  the  mystic  call 
From  out  the  depths  of  Heaven's  hall ; — 
"Ye  BUILDERS,  MEN  from  many  lands, 
Come  to  the  house  not  made  with  hands !" 


%:  1*  Calktjr 


It  might  have  pleased  the  great  Creator  of  heaven  and  earth  to 
have  made  man  independent  of  all  other  beings  ;  but  as  dependence  is 
one  of  the  strongest  bonds  of  society,  mankind  were  made  dependent 
on  each  other  for  protection  and  security,  as  they  thereby  enjoy  better 
opportunities  of  fulfilling  the  duties  of  reciprocal  love  and  friendship. 

He  calleth  us  to  words  and  deeds  of  love, 

As  spring  calls  forth  from  wintry  crust  the  flowers  ; 
He  breathes  within  us  spirit  from  above 

As  zephyrs  breathe  within  the  sunny  bowers  ; 
He  saith,  Arise,  shake  off  the  dust  and  go 

Where  duty  calls,  w^here  sorrow  hath  its  sway  ; 

He  points  our  feet  the  proper  path,  and  lo, 
He  promiseth  to  be  with  us,  alway  ! 


'Tis  done,  the  dark  decree  is  said, 

That  called  our  friend  away ; 
Submissive  bow  the  sorrowing  head, 

And  bend  the  lowly  knee ; 
We  will  not  ask  why  God  has  broke 

Our  Pillar  on  its  stone, 
But  humbly  yield  us  to  the  stroke, 

And  say  "  His  will  be  done." 

At  last  the  weary  head  has  sought 

In  earth  its  long  repose ; 
And  weeping  freres  have  hither  brought 

Their  chieftain  to  his  close ; 
We  held  his  hand,  we  filled  his  heart, 

"While  heart  and  hand  could  move, 
Nor  will  we  from  his  grave  depart 

But  with  the  rites  of  love. 

This  grave  shall  be  a  garner,  where 

We'll  heap  our  golden  corn ; 
And  here,  in  heart,  we'll  oft  repair, 

To  think  of  him  that's  gone ; 
To  speak  of  all  he  did  and  said, 

That's  wise,  and  good,  and  pure, 
And  covenant  o'er  the  hopeful  dead, 

In  vows  that  shall  endure. 

162 


THE      PURSUIT      OF      FRANKLIN.  163 

Oh  Brother,  bright  and  loving  frere, 

Oh  spirit  free  and  pure, 
Breathe  us  one  gush  of  spirit  air, 

From  off  the  heavenly  shore, 
And  say,  when  these  hard  toils  are  done, 

And  the  GRAND  MASTER  calls, 
Is  there  for  every  wearied  one 

Place  in  the  heavenly  halls ! 


&fy  f  ttrsmit  of  f  ranfefin. 

When  Dr.  Kane,  the  Arctic  navigator,  left  New  York  in  search  of 
"Sir  John  Franklin,  he  set  the  Masonic  Square  and  Compass  in  large 
characters  upon  his  foresail  He  visited  a  lodge  in  Newfoundland  at 
his  brief  call  there.  The  flag  taken  and  left,  by  hia  orders,  nearest 
the  North  Pole,  was  the  Masonic  flag  It  was  an  incentive  to  the  zeal- 
ous search  made  by  our  intrepid  countrymen,  that  Franklin  was  re- 
ported to  be  a  Freemason. 

The  following  lines  were  written  in  1853,  upon  his  setting  out  on 
the  philanthropic  errand.  It  is  needless  to  say,  however,  that  the 
writer's  prediction  failed  in  its  fulfillment. 

Midst  polar  snows  and  solitude, 

Eight  weary  years  the  voyager  lies, 
Ice-bound  upon  the  frozen  flood, 

While  expectation  vanishes ; 
Ah !  many  a  hopeless  tear  is  shed 
-Tor  Franklin  numbered  with  the  dead ! 


164  THE      PURSUIT      OF      FRAXKLIX. 

Midst  joys  of  home,  and  well-earned  fame, 
Young,  healthful,  honored,  there  is  one 

Who  pines  to  win  a  nobler  name, 
And  feels  his  glory  but  begun  ; 

His  heart  is  with  the  voyager  lost, 

Midst  polar  solitude  and  frost. 

The  voice  from  off  the  frozen  flood, 
Appeals  in  trumpet-tones  for  aid ; 

'Tis  heard,  'tis  answered — swift  abroad 
The  flag  is  flung,  the  sail  is  spread ; 

That  sail  on  whose  pure  face  we  see 

Thy  symbol,  honored  Masonry  ! 

Away,  on  glorious  errand,  now, 
Thou  hero  of  a  sense  of  right ! 

Success  be  on  thy  gallant  prow, 
Thou  greater  than  the  sons  of  might  I 

Thy  flag,  the  banner  of  the  free, 

Oh,  may  it  lead  to  victory ! 

Is  there  some  chain  of  sympathy, 
Flung  thus  across  the  frozen  seas  ? 

Is  there  some  strange,  mysterious  tie, 
That  joins  these  daring  men  ? — there  is  I 

This,  honored,  healthful,  free  from  want, 

Is  bound  to  that  in  COVENANT  ! 


THE      PURSUIT      OF      FRANKLIN.  165 

For  though  these  twain  have  never  met, 
Nor  pressed  the  hand,  nor  joined  the  heart, 

In  unison  their  spirits  beat, 
Brothers  in  the  Masonic  art ; — 

One,  in  the  hour  of  joy  and  peace — 

&nt,  in  the  hour  of  deep  distress. 

And  by  the  SYMBOLS,  best  of  those 

Time-honored  on  our  ancient  "wall, — 
And  by  the  prayer  that  ceaseless  flows, 

Upward  from  every  Mystic  Hall — 
And  by  thine  own  stout  heart  and  hand, 
Known,  marked,  and  loved  in  every  land — 

Thou  shalt  succeed — his  drooping  eye 
Shall  catch  thy  banner,  broad  and  bright — 

That  symbol  he  shall  yet  descry, 
And  know  a  Brother  in  the  sight ! 

Ah,  noble  pair  !  which  happier  then, 

Of  those  two  daring,  dauntless  men ! 


10  %  SOTI.  f.  C.  tucker. 


The  history  of  Freemasonry  in  the  United  States  from  1826  to 
1861  bears  many  traces  of  the  wisdom  and  zeal  of  Mr.  Tucker,  long 
Grand  Master  of  Masons  in  Vermont.  During  the  reverses  sustained 
by  the  Masonic  order  thirty  years  since,  he  was  a  tower  of  strength 
to  the  desponding  in  hia  own  State,  where  antimasonry  secured  its 
firmest  foothold.  His  ready  pen  was  ever  at  the  service  of  the  Insti- 
tution. His  decisions  upon  mooted  questions  were  unexcelled  for 
clearness  and  soundness.  His  knowledge  of  ritualisms  gave  him  a 
pre-eminence  as  a  working  Jfason,  while  his  genial  spirit  and  manner 
secured  him  popularity  with  all  who  knew  him. 

The  following  Monody  forms  a  part  of  the  "  Eulogy  "  pronounced 
by  the  writer  in  January,  1862,  in  the  presence  of  the  Grand  Lodge  of 
Vermont : 


Dead  1  and  where  now  those  earnest  loving  eyes 
Which  Idndled  in  so  many  eyes  the  light  ? 

Have  they  departed  from  our  earthly  skies 
And  left  no  rays  to  illuminate  the  night  ? 

Dead !  and  where  now  that  heart  of  sympathy 

That  welled  and  yearned,  and  with  true  love  o'erflowed  ? 

Oh  heart  of  love,  is  the  rich  treasure  dry  ? 
Forever  sealed,  what  once  such  gifts  bestowed  ? 

Dead  !  and  where  now  that  gen'rous,  nervous  hand 
That  thrilled  each  nerve  within  its  generous  clasp  ? 

Will  it  no  more  enlink  the  mystic  band, 

Hallowing  and  strength'ning  all  within  its  grasp  ? 


SONG      AND      FREEMASONRY.  167 

Heart,  eyes  and  hand,  to  dust  are  all  consign'd — 

It  was  his  lot,  for  he  was  born  of  earth  ; 
But  the  rich  treasures  of  his  master-mind 

Abide  in  Heatf-fi,  for  there  they  had  their  birth. 

Abide  in  Heav'n  !  oh  the  enkindling  trust ! 

The  record  of  his  deeds  remaineth  here : 
THE  ACACIA  blooms  beside  his  silent  dust 

To  point  unerringly  to  yon  bright  sphere. 

Then,  though  the  SHATTERED  COLUMN  mark  his  fate, 
And  WEEPING  VIRGIN  tell  th'  unfinished  FANE, 

Not  altogether  are  we  desolate, 

For  oh,  departed  friend,  we  meet  again ! 


Jfrtemns0tir|r. 


Addressed  to  a  lady  who  has  written  various  Masonic  productions 
of  merit. 

Rich  is  song  when  tuned  to  passion, 

Love,  benevolence,  or  joy  — 
Vast  its  power,  and  blest  its  mission  ;  — 

Saints  in  heaven  the  notes  employ  ; 
Heaven  itself  resounds  with  song, 
Tuned  by  an  unnumbered  throng. 


168  SONG      AND      FREEMASONRY, 

But  its  power  is  best  extended, 
When,  to  bless  the  SONS  OF  TOIL, 

Masons'  joys  with  songs  are  blended, 
Rhyming  Corn  and  Wine,  and  Oil ; 

Then  it  thrills  the  inner  sense, 

Driving  gloomy  shadows  hence. 

Sister,  from  your  heart  are  welling, 
Thoughts  attuned  to  sweetest  song ! 

But  the  sweetest  yet  are  telling 
Of  the  ancient  Mason-throng ; 

Telling  of  its  TENETS  three, 

FAITH  and  HOPE,  and  CHARITY  ! 

Still  to  us  your  muse  be  given — 
Ours  the  genial  spirit-birth ; 

Sing  the  Sabbath-rest  of  Heaven, 
Sing  the  six  days'  toil  of  earth, 

Festive  joys,  and  sacred  grief, 

Love  fraternal,  truth,  relief. 

Then,  when  death  his  object  gaining. 
Stills  the  answer  of  your  lyre, 

These  the  gems  of  song  remaining. 
Other  genius  shall  inspire, 

And  the  Craft,  in  deathless  lays, 

Shall  embalm  their  Poet's  praise. 


Cjtt  Jfutttral  Stamtir. 

Wreathe  the  mourning  badge  around- 
Once  again  that  funeral  sound ! 
From  his  friends  and  from  his  home ; 
Bear  him,  Brothers,  to  the  tomb  ! 

While  they  journey  weeping,  slow, 
Silent,  thoughtful  let  us  go ; 
Silent — life  to  him  is  sealed ; 
Thoughtful — death's  to  him  revealed. 

How  his  life-path  has  been  trod, 
Brothers  we  will  leave  to  God ; 
Friendship's  mantle,  trusting  faith, 
Lends  a  fragrance,  even  to  death. 

Here,  amidst  the  things  that  sleep, 
Lay  him  down — his  rest  is  deep  : 
Death  has  triumphed — loving  hands 
Cannot  raise  him  from  his  bands. 

But  the  Emblems  that  we  shower, 
Tell  us  there's  a  mightier  power ; 
O'er  the  strength  of  death  and  hell, 
JUDAH'S  LION  SHALL  PREVAIL  ! 


170  CRYPT      IN      THE      CORNER-STONE. 

Dust  to  dust,  the  dark  decree — 
Soul  to  God,  the  soul  is  free  ! 
Leave  him  with  the  lowly  lain — 
Brother,  we  shall  meet  again  ! 


Crgjrt  in  i|re  Coriwr-Stone. 

It  is  a  legend  in  Masonry  that  the  Corner-stone  of  Solomon's 
Temple,  sunk  firmly  in  the  northeast  corner  of  the  holy  Mount,  con- 
tains many  objects  strange  and  curious.  Among  them  is  a  collection  of 
all  the  vices  and  passions  that  were  found  in  the  hearts  of  the  Temple- 
huilders  when  they  came  up  from  Phenicia  to  undertake  the  work. 
These,  King  Solomon  was  enabled,  by  his  wisdom,  to  detect,  and  by 
his  Power,  to  withdraw  from  their  working-places,  and  to  confine  them 
securely  as  already  stated. 

Since  that  period,  whenever  a  Mason-brother  exhibits  any  passion 
or  impropriety  forbidden  by  his  Covenants,  he  may  correctly  be 
charged  with  having  "robbed  the  corner-stone  of  King  Solomon's 
Temple  !" 

Build  up,  ye  Crafts,  the  Sacred  Fane- 
Raise  up  its  walls  as  high  as  heaven — 
But  shape  your  Mocks  and  lay  them  there, 

Upon  the  pattern  given. 
Our  MASTER  bade  us  labor  so—- 
He marked  the  years,  three  score  and  ten, 
And  gives  us  many  a  noontide  hour, 

To  cheer  his  toiling  men. 
We  build  no  walls  for  time  to  gnaw, 
No  halls  for  men  who  yield  to  death ; — 
Our  pattern  is  the  perfect  LAW, 
And  GOD  our  service  hath ! 


OUR      FUTURE      MEETING.  171 

He  reined  the  passions'  evil  train ; 

He  quenched  the  fires  within  the  breast ; 

He  sunk  them  deep  beneath  the  earth, 

And  there  we  bid  them  rest ; 
He  laid  in  love  the  CORNER-STONE, — 
A  firm  unshaken  ROCK  'tis  found  , 
Our  fathers  built  on  this  alone, 

For  this  is  holy  ground ! 
"We  build  no  walls  for  time  to  gnaw, 
No  halls  for  men  who  yield  to  death ; — 
Our  pattern  is  the  perfect  LAW, 

And  GOD  our  service  hath ! 


(Lhtr  .uture 


Where  types  are  all  fulfilled  — 

Where  mystic  shades  are  real  — 
Where  aching  hands  and  hearts  are  stilled, 

And  death  has  set  his  seal  — 
In  that  bright  land  called  heaven, 

Dear  Friend,  we'll  meet  once  more  ! 
The  token  in  thy  parting  given, 

Points  to  a  heavenly  shore. 

'Tis  this,  our  signs  have  taught  — 

Our  symbols  old  and  true  ; 
'Tis  this  upon  our  work  is  wrought, 

Which  every  frere  can  view  ; 


172  EMBLEMS      OF      THE      CRAFT. 

From  the  first  line  we  traced, 
On  the  foundation  walls, 

To  that  Tyright  stone,  the  last,  the  best, 
The  glory  of  our  halls. 

Oh,  what  a  land  of  joy, 

Hast  thou  beheld,  my  Friend ! 
Oh,  what  ineffable  employ 

Thy  faithful  heart  has  gained ! 
Thy  Brother,  weary,  worn, 

Longs  for  the  same  bright  dome, 
Where  all  the  week's  hard  service  done, 

He'll  have  thy  welcome  home. 


xrf        Craft. 


The  following  lines  were  written  to  be  accompanied  by  appropriate 
movements  which  will  easily  suggest  themselves  to  the  enlightened 
reader  : 

Who  wears  THE  SQUARE  upon  his  breast, 
Does,  in  the  sight  of  God  attest, 

And  in  the  sight  of  man, 
That  all  his  actions  do  compare 
With  the  DITIBTE,  th'  unerring  SQUARE 

That  squares  great  Virtue's  plan  : 
And  he  erects  his  Edifice 
By  this  design,  and  this  and  this  ! 


EMBLEMS      OF      THE      CRAFT.  173 

Who  wears  THE  LEVEL  says  that  pride 
Does  not  within  his  soul  abide, 

Nor  foolish  vanity ; 
That  man  has  but  a  common  doom, 
And  from  the  cradle  to  the  tomb 

A  common  destiny : 
That  he  erects  his  Edifice 
By  this  design,  and  this  and  this! 

Who  wears  THE  G ;  that  type  divine ! 
Whose  very  thought  should  banish  sin, 

Trusts  but  in  God  alone ; 
His  FATHER,  MAKER,  FRIEND,  he  knows — 
He  vows,  and  pays  to  GOD  his  vows, 

Before  th'  Eternal  throne : 
And  he  erects  his  Edifice 
By  this  design,  and  this  and  this  ! 

Who  wears  THE  PLUMB,  behold  how  true 
And  just  his  steps !  and  could  we  view 

The  workings  of  his  soul, 
Each  secret  thought,  so  pure,  and  good, 
By  the  stern  line  of  RECTITUDE, 

Points  truly  to  that  goal : 
And  he  erects  his  Edifice 
By  this  design,  and  this  and  thit  I 


174  SOLOMON'S    MIDNIGHT    VISIT, 

See  Wisdom,  Strength  and  Beauty  too, 
In  each  design  our  Fathers  drew 

Here  on  the  Tracing-board ! 
Each  has  a  moral  in  it  given 
That  tells  us  of  a  coming  Heaven 

Whose  MASTER  is  the  LORD  ! 
Each  bids  us  build  ON  THIS,  ON  THIS, 
An  everlasting  Edifice  ! 


Salomon's 


It  is  one  of  the  most  charming  traditions  that  past  generations 
have  entrusted  to  the  present,  this  of  King  Solomon's  Midnight  Visit. 
The  legend  is  that  the  Mighty  Sage,  weary  with  protracted  waiting 
for  the  Resurrection  Day,  is  permitted  an  hour  each  night  to  roam 
over  the  earth.  Naturally  looking  up  Masonic  lodges,  he  hears  the 
gavel-sounds  of  those  that  are  working  past  midnight,  enters  them, 
though  invisible,  and  infuses  a  spirit  of  wisdom  and  love  into  every 
bosom.  Thus  it  has  long  been  observed  of  the  Brethren  returning 
home  at  so  late  an  hour,  that  they  are  fraught  with  a  peculiarly 
brotherly  spirit,  explained  best  by  this  hypothesis  of  the  Midnight 
Visit  of  King  Solomon  ! 

In  a  deep,  rocky  tomb  great  King  Solomon  lies, 

Sealed  up  till  the  judgment  from  all  prying  eyes  ; 

The  SQUARE  on  his  breast,  and  his  kingly  brow  Crowned  — 

His  GAVEL  and  Sceptre  with  fillettings  wound  ; 

At  midnight,  impatient,  his  spirit  comes  forth, 

And  haunts,  for  a  season,  the  places  of  earth. 


SOLOMON'S    MIDNIGHT    VISIT.  175 

He  flits  like  a  thought,  to  the  chambers  of  kings, — 
To  the  field  where  red  battle  has  shaken  his  wings, — 
To  the  cave  where  the  student  his  late  vigil  keeps, — 
To  the  cell  where  the  prisoner  hopelessly  weeps ; 
But  most,  where  Freemasons  their  mystical  round 
Continue  past  midnight,  King  Solomon's  found  ! 

Oh,  then,  when  the  bell  tolls  Low  XII.  do  we  hear 
A  rustling,  a  whispering  startle  the  ear ! 
A  deep  solemn  murmur — while  Crafts  stand  in  awe 
At  something  the  eye  of  a  mortal  ne'er  saw ! 
We  Tcnow  it,  we  feel  it,  we  welcome  the  KING 
Whose  spirit  takes  part  in  the  anthems  we  sing ! 

And,  then,  every  heart  beats  responsive  and  warm — 

The  ACACIA  blooms  freshly — we  heed  not  the  storm ; 

Our  tapers  are  starlit,  and  lo,  from  above, 

There  seems  as  descending  the  form  of  a  dove  ! 

'Tis  the  EMBLEM  OF  PEACE  which  King  Solomon  sends, 

To  model  and  pattern  the  work  of  his  friends. 

His  friends,  loving  Brothers,  as  homeward  you  go, 
Bear  Peace  in  your  bosoms,  let  Peace  sweetly  flow  ! 
In  Concord,  in  Friendship,  in  Brotherly  Love 
Be  faithful, — no  Emblem  so  true  as  that  dove ! 
The  world  will  confess  then  with  cheerful  accord, 
You  have  met  with  King  Solomon  at  midnight  abroad ! 


Cjxe  Spirit  0f 

In  the  settlement  of  long-pending  difficulties  among  the  Canadian 
Masons,  the  writer  was  called  in  in  July,  1858,  with  the  celebrated 
Judge  Tucker,  Grand  Master  of  Vermont,  to  suggest  proper  terms  of 
reconciliation.  The  pleasing  task  being  performed,  and  the  Union 
complete,  the  following  lines  were  read  at  a  Banquet  that  most  agree- 
ably terminated  the  meeting : 

There  never  was  occasion,  and  there  never  was  an  hour, 
When  spirits  of  Peace  on  angel-wings  so  near  our  heads  did  soar ; 
There's  no  event  so  glorious  on  the  page  of  time  to  appear, 
As  the  union  of  the  Brotherhood,  sealed  by  our  coming  here. 

'Twas  in  the  hearts  of  many,  'twas  in  the  prayers  of  some, 
That  the  good  old  days  of  Brotherly  Love  might  yet  in  mercy 

come ; 

'Twas  whispered  in  our  Lodges,  in  the  E.  and  S.  and  W., 
That  the  time  was  nigh  when  the  plaintive  cry  our  GOD  would 

hear  and  bless. 

But  none  believed  the  moment  of  fruition  was  at  hand ; 
How  could  we  deem  so  rich  a  cup  was  waiting  our  command  ! 
It  came  like  rain  in  summer-drought,  on  drooping  foliage  poured, 
And  bade  us  look  henceforth  for  help,  in  all  our  cares,  to  God  ! 

The  news  has  gone  already  upon  every  wind  of  heaven ; 
The  wire,  the  press,  the  busy  tongue,  the  intelligence  has  given ; 
And  every  one  who  heard  it  and  who  loves  the  Sons  of  Peace 
Has  cried,  "  Praise  GOD,  the  GOD  of  Love !  may  GOD  this  Union 


THE      SPIRIT      OF      UNION.  177 

Vermont  takes  up  the  story — her  "  old  man  eloquent " — 

Long  be  his  days  among  us,  on  deeds  of  mercy  spent — 

He  speaks  for  the  Green  Mountains,  and  you  heard  him  say  last 

night, 
"  Bless  God  that  I  have  lived  till  now  to  see  this  happy  sight  1" 

Kentucky  sends  you  greeting — from  her  broad  and   generous 

bound, 
Once  styled  of  all  the  "Western  wild,    "the  Dark  and  Bloody 

Ground." 

She  cries  aloud,  "  God  bless  you !  Heaven's  dews  be  on  you  shed, 
Who  first  took  care  to  ~be  in  the  right,  then  boldly  went  ahead !" 

From  yonder  constellation,  from  the  Atlantic  to  the  "West, 
"Where  the  great  pines  of  Oregon  rear  up  their  lofty  crest, 
Prom  the  flowery  glades  of  Florida,  from  Minnesota's  plain, 
Each  voice  will  say,  "  Huzza !  huzza !  this  craft  is  one  again ! " 

Old  England  soon  will  hear  it ;  not  always  will  the  cry 
Of  suffering  Brothers  meet  her  ear,  and  she  pass  coldly  by : 
There's  a  chord  in  British  hearts  vibrates  to  every  tale  of  wrong, 
And  she  will  send  a  welcome  and  a  Brother's  hand  ere  long. 

Then  joyful  be  this  meeting,  and  many  more  like  this, 
As  year  by  year  shall  circle  round,  and  bring  you  added  bliss ; 
In  quarry,  hill,  and  temple,  PEACE  ,  nor  cruel  word  nor  thought 
Disturb  the  perfect  harmony  the  gracious  GOD  has  wrought. 


178  THE      ORIENT. 

But  while  your  walls  are  thus  compact,  your  cement  strong  and 

good, 

Your  workmen  diligent  and  just,  a  mighty  Brotherhood, 
Remember,  Brethren,  o'er  the  earth,  and  on  the  raging  sea, 
How  many  a  heart  there  is  to-night  that  sighs,  "  Remember  me  1" 

By  the  sign  the  world  knows  nothing  of,  but  to  our  eyes  so 

clear, — 

By  the  token  known  in  darkest  hour,  that  tells  a  brother  near — 
By  the  sacred  vow  and  word,  and  by  "  the  hieroglyphic  bright," 
Remember  all,  the  wide  world  round,  who  claim  your  love  to- 
night. 


CIxe  (Orient 

LIGHT  from  the  East,  'tis  gilded  with  hope ; 

STAR  OP  OUR  FAITH,  thy  glory  is  up  ! 

Darkness  apace,  and  watchfulness  flee ; 

Earth,  lend  thy  joys  to  nature  and  me. 

See,  Brothers,  see  yon  dark  shadows  flee 
Join  in  His  praise,  whose  glories  we  be ! 
Now,  let  these  Emblems  ages  have  given, 
Speak  to  the  world,  blest  SAVIOUR,  of  thee. 

Lo,  we  have  seen,  uplifted  on  high, 
STAR  IN  THE  EAST,  thy  rays  from  the  sky ! 
Lo,  we  have  heard,  what  joy  to  our  ear — 
Come,  ye  redeemed,  and  welcome  Him  here ! 


THE      PASSAGE      OF      TIME.  179 

Light  to  the  blind,  they've  wandered  too  long — 
Feet  to  the  lame,  the  weak  are  made  strong — 
Hope  to  the  joyless,  freely  'tis  given — 
Life  to  the  dead,  and  music  to  heaven ! 

Praise  to  the  Lord,  keep  silence  no  more ! 
Ransomed,  rejoice  from  mountain  to  shore ! 
Streams  in  the  desert,  sing  as  ye  stray ! 
Sorrow  and  sadness,  vanish  away ! 


0f  Citric, 


Lo,  the  sands  swiftly  run !  behold  our  lives 

Dropping  like  foliage  to  a  solemn  close ! 

To-day  the  bud  bright  expectation  gives — 

To-morrow  blossoms  to  a  transient  rose — 

Another  morn  and  its  whole  beauty  goes : 

Its  leaves  are  scattered  wastefully  around, 

No  heart  remembering — another  glows 

Upon  the  stem — another  hope  is  crowned ; 

And  this  is  human  life,  the  life  the  dead  have  found. 

Count  well  the  moments  then ;  fill  up  the  day ; 
Brothers,  let  Wisdom's  hand  your  life-plans  trace ; 
The  Temple  will  le  finished,  though  we  may 
Not  see  the  STONE  exalted  to  its  place  ! 
It  is  enough  that  God  will  see  and  bless ! 


180  THE      MODEL      MASON 

Labor  while  it  is  day !  there's  work  for  all 

The  Trestle-board  proclaims  it,  and,  alas ! 

Too  soon  will  night  spread  o'er  its  hueless  pall— 

Too  soon  the  grave — the  grave — from  which  there's  no  recall ! 

Clouds  may  obscure  us ;  slander  may  detract — 

The  foes  of  truth  and  rectitude  unite — 

But  while  within  our  Mystic  Sphere  we  act 

There  lives  no  power  can  hinder  or  affright ; 

The  MASTER'S  EYE  still  oversees  the  right ; 

Heaven's  books  record  it  with  angelic  pen ; 

And  when  death's  summons  calls  us  up  the  height, 

A  full  reward  for  labor  shall  we  gain, 

In  God's  own  Temple,  freed  from  sorrow,  toil,  and  pain. 


There's  a  fine,  old  Mason  in  the  North,  he's  genial,  wise  and  true, 
His  list  of  brothers  comprehends,  dear  Brother,  me  and  you ; 
So  warm's  his  heart  the  snow-blast  fails  to  chill  his  generous 

blood, 
And  his  hand  is  like  a  giant's  when  outstretched  to  man  or 

God;— 
Reproach  nor  blame,  nor  any  shame  has  checked  his  course  or 

dimmed  his  fame — 

All  honor  to  his  name ! 


THE      LOVING      TIE.  181 

This  fine  old  Mason  is  but  one  of  a  large  family ; 

In  every  LODGE  you'll  find  his  kin,  you'll  find  them  two  or  three ; 

You'll  know  them  when  you  see  them,  for  they  have  their  father's 

face, 

A  generous  knack  of  speaking  truth  and  doing  good  always ; — 
Reproach  nor  blame,  nor  any  shame,  has  checked  their  course 

or  dimmed  their  fame — 

FREEMASONS  is  their  name ! 

Ah  many  an  orphan  smiles  upon  the  kindred  as  they  pass ; 
And  many  a  widow's  prayers  confess  their  sympathizing  grace ; 
The  FATHER  of  this  Brotherhood  himself  doth  smile  to  see 
Their  works — they're  numbered  all  in  heaven  those  deeds  of 

charity ! 
Reproach  nor  blame,  nor  any  shame  can  check  their  course  or 

dim  their  fame, 

All  honor  to  their  name  ! 


{re  f  airing  Cb. 


The  Loving  Tie  we  feel, 
No  language  can  reveal — 

'Tis  seen  in  the  sheen  of  a  fond  Brother's  eye ; 
It  trembles  on  the  ear 
When  melting  with  a  tear, 

A  Brother  bids  us  cease  to  sigh. 


182  THE      LOVING      TIE. 

Behold  how  good  and  how  pleasant 
For  Brothers  in  unity  to  dwell ! 

As  heaven's  dews  are  shed 

On  Zion's  sacred  head, 
The  blessings  of  the  Lord  we  feel. 

'Twas  at  a  sufferer's  bed 

Now  moldering  with  the  dead, 

This  Bond,  ah,  so  fond,  was  discovered  first  to  me  ! 
I  saw  his  dying  eye, 
Light  up  with  speechless  joy, 

And  I  felt  how  fond  that  love  must  be. 

I  ever  will  proclaim 

With  gratitude  the  name 
Of  Him,  the  DIVINE,  who  has  granted  this  to  me — 

That  weary  tho'  I  stray 

O'er  nature's  rugged  way, 
I  never,  never,  alone  can  be. 

There's  some  I  know  will  smile 

And  others  may  revile — 
'Tis  so  as  we  know  with  the  evil  heart  alway— 

But  if  I  can  but  prove 

Through  life  a  Mason's  love, 
I  little  care  what  man  may  say  1 


Life's  sands  are  dropping,  dropping, — 

Each  grain  a  moment  dies : 
No  stay  has  time,  nor  stopping — 

Behold  how  swift  he  flies ! 
He  bears  away  our  rarest — 

They  smile  and  disappear ; 
The  cold  grave  wraps  our  fairest — 

Each  falling  grain's  a  tear. 

Life's  sands  are  softly  falling, — 

Death's  foot  is  light  as  snow : 
'Tis  fearful,  'tis  appalling, 

To  see  how  swift  they  flow ; 
To  read  the  fatal  warning, 

The  sands  so  plainly  tell ; 
To  feel  there's  no  returning 

Through  death's  dark  shadowy  dale. 

Life's  sands  give  admonition, 

To  use  the  moments  well ; 
Each  grain  bears  holy  mission, 

And  this  the  tale  they  tell  :— 
"  Let  zeal  than  time  run  faster, 

Each  grain  some  good  afford, 
Then  at  the  last,  THE  MASTER 

Shall  double  our  reward  !" 

183 


0ur  at  Jyfo  XII. 


One  hour  with  you,  one  hour  with  you, 

No  doubt,  nor  care,  nor  strife, 
Is  worth  a  year  as  ages  go, 

In  all  that  sweetens  life. 
One  hour  with  you,  and  you,  and  you, 

Bright  links  in  mystic  chain  — 
Oh  may  we  oft  these  joys  renew, 

And  often  meet  again. 

Your  eyes  with  love's  own  language  free, 
Your  hand-grips,  strong  and  true, 

Your  voice,  your  heart,  do  welcome  me 
To  spend  an  hour  with  you. 

I  come  when  morning  skies  are  bright, 

To  work  my  Mason's  due  — 
To  labor  is  my  chief  delight, 

And  spend  an  hour  with  you. 

I  go  when  evening  gilds  the  west, 

I  breathe  the  fond  adieu, 
But  hope  again,  by  fortune  blest, 

To  spend  an  hour  with  you. 

And  if  perchance  the  page  is  closed 

On  which  my  life  is  given, 
I  would  beseech  the  Masons'  GOD 

That  we  may  meet  in  HEAVEN  ! 


KNIGHT    TEMPLAR'S    DIRGE.  185 

In  HEAVEN  with  you,  and  you,  and  you, 

To  join  the  blissful  strain  ; 
Oh  may  we  there  these  joys  renew 

And  meet  IN  HEAVEN  again ! 


Precious  in  the  sight  of  heaven 

Is  the  place  where  Christians  die ; 
Souls  with  all  their  sins  forgiven, 

To  the  courts  of  glory  fly ; 
Every  sorrow,  every  burden, 

Every  CKOSS  they  lay  it  down ; 
JESUS  gives  them  richest  guerdon 

In  his  own  immortal  CROWN. 


Here,  above  OUR  BROTHER  weeping, 

Through  our  tears  we  seize  this  hope — 
He  in  JESUS  sweetly  sleeping, 

Shall  awake  in  glory  up  ! 
He  has  borne  his  CROSS  in  sorrow — 

Weary  pilgrim,  all  forlorn — 
When  the  sun  shines  bright  to-morrow, 

'Twill  reveal  his  sparkling  CROWN. 


186  THE      TEST. 

Knights  of  Christ,  your  ranks  are  broken ! 

Close  your  front !  the  foe  is  nigh  ! 
Shield  to  Shield  behold  the  TOKEN 

As  he  saw  it  in  the  sky ! 
BY  THAT  SIGN  so  bright,  so  glorious, 

YE  SHALL  COXQUEK  if  ye  strive, 
And  like  him,  though  dead,  victorious 

In  the  courts  of  JESUS  live  ! 


<Tbc  (Test, 

The  expression  "  I  am  willing  to  be  tried   again,"   has  a  highly 
important  use  in  the  tlieorv  of  Masonry. 

I  never  have  denied — 

Fin  willing  to  be  tried — 
A  call  for  sympathy  from  sorrowing  man ; 

My  own  hard  griefs  impel 

My  heart  for  such  to  feel, 
And  I  am  willing  to  be  tried  again. 

The  claim,  so  often  made, 

For  shelter  and  for  aid, 
I  never  have  refused,  and  never  can : 

And  though  my  purse  was  scant, 

The  poor  did  never  want, 
And  I  am  willing  to  be  tried  again. 


THE      TEST.  187 

Is  counsel  craved,  I  give — 

What  pleasure  to  relieve 
The  doubts  my  neighbor's  spirit  that  unman ! 

The  wisdom  given  to  me, 

To  him  is  offered  free, 
And  I  am  -nailing  to  be  tried  again. 

My  brother  goes  astray — 

Ah  me,  ITmow  the  way, 
The  idippery  tcay  that  lures  the  thoughtless  man ! 

I  run  to  draw  him  back — 

I  point  the  dangerous  track, 
And  I  am  willing  to  be  tried  again. 

I've  suffered  many  a  wrong, 

From  evil  hand  and  tongue — 
I've  learned  forgiveness  from  no  common  MAN  ! 

Forgiveness  I  have  shown, 

As  God  to  me  has  done, 
And  I  am  willing  to  be  tried  again. 

Each  night  on  bended  knee, 

The  all-seeing  EYE  doth  see 
My  body  suppliant  at  a  THRONE  DIVINE  ; 

And  there  for  brothers'  need, 

As  for  my  own  I  plead, 
And  I  am  willing  to  be  tried  again. 


188  A      DEDICATION. 

I'm  dying  fast  and  soon — 
My  life  has  past  its  noon — 

I've  had  such  premonitions  as  were  plain 
My  heart  was  strong  in  faith 
That  God  would  smile  in  death. 

And  I  am  willing  to  be  tried  again. 


The  author's  History  of  Freemasonry  in  Kentucky,  1859,  was 
dedicated  to  the  Hon.  Henry  Wingate,  Past  Grand  Master  of  Ken- 
tucky, in  the  following  lines.  That  venerable  and  excellent  man  died 
September,  1862. 

Type  of  a  generation  dropping  fast — • 

Pillar  of  faultless  worth  and  dignity, 
This  record  of  the  unreturning  past 

Is  dedicate  with  loving  heart  to  thee  1 

Of  all  the  mighty  Brotherhood  whose  toils, 
Through  three  score  years  perpetuated  here, 

Built  with  fond  assiduity  our  walls, 
Thy  services  the  Craftsmen  most  revere. 

Long  through  the  desert  lead  thou  safe  the  way, 
We  pilgrims  following  with  faithful  feet, 

A  Light  by  night,  unerring  Guide  by  day, 
Till  on  the  shores  of  Canaan  we  shall  meet  1 


ia  ye#ht0ixm 

Tliis  Lodge  is  No.  310,  at  Brooklyn,  K  Y. 

A  fire  was  kindled  on  the  plain 
Of  Lexington  that  gloweth  yet ; 

Each  blood-drop  from  a  patriot's  heart 
A  lasting  horror  did  beget, 

Of  tyrant's  chain  and  despot's  rule, 

With  which  our  sorrowing  world  is  full. 

Here  on  your  altars  glows  the  flame 
Sacred  to  Truth  and  Charity; 

Each  Craft  before  the  SACRED  NAME 
Bows  low  in  mute  sincerity ; 

And  peace  hath  like  a  spirit  shone 

Within  the  walls  of  LEXINGTON. 

So  mote  it  be  till  time  shall  end ! 

May  circling  ages  bless  the  Band 
That  build  the  Mystic  Temple  here, 

And  round  the  Mystic  Altar  stand  I 
Eternity  shall  gild  the  flame 
Of  LEXINGTON'S  thrice-honored  name  I 


In  thought,  word  and  deed, 

We  too  are  agreed, 
From  the  same  FOUNT  OF  KNOWLEDGE  instructed ; 

And  by  the  same  hand 

We'll  travel  or  stand, 
To  the  same  Goal  of  triumph  conducted. 

Through  the  same  open  door, 

We  lame,  blind  and  poor 
Undertook  the  same  mystic  endeavor ; 

Through  the  same  grave  at  last, 

When  death's  trial  is  past, 
We'll  share  the  forever  and  ever. 

Our  friends  are  the  same, 

Whatever  their  name, 
Whatever  their  station  or  nation  ; 

The  same  are  our  foes, 

Whose  malice  but  shows 
Their  hearts  black  with  coming  damnation. 

We  too,  then,  can  walk. 

Sit,  stand,  work  or  talk, 
In  union  make  sign  or  give  token, 

And  while  life  remains 

With  its  losses  and  gains 
Let's  see  that  the  tie  be  not  broken ! 


to 


'Tis  but  an  hour  —  our  life  is  but  a  span  ; 
No  summer  rose  so  frail  as  dying  man  ; 
Did  there  no  memory  of  our  deeds  survive, 
Death  were  more  welcome  than  the  happiest  life. 

But  the  true  heart  shall  live  in  mercy's  deed  ; 
The  Beeord  stands  where  every  eye  can  read  — 
Where  countless  myriads  on  the  judgment-morn 
Shall  see  each  chcvrity  our  hands  have  done. 

What  wondrous  mercy  doth  THE  MASTER  give 
That  the  true  Workman  in  Us  WorTc  shall  live  ! 
What  wondrous  power  the  dark  grave  defies  — 
The  Temple  stands  although  the  Builder  dies  ! 

Bear  me  in  memory  then,  kind  Friends  and  true 
As  one  who  loved  the  MASTER'S  cause  and  you  ! 
Join  my  poor  name  with  yours  in  Mystic  Chain 
Although  we  may  not,  cannot  meet  again  ! 

And  when  the  stroke  of  Death,  long  pending,  falls, 
And  I  no  more  shall  work  on  Temple-walls, 
Wreathe  the  ACACIA  green  about  my  head 
And  give  one  memory  to  your  faithful  dead. 


A  number  of  years  since,  the  author  projected  a  poem  which,  under 
the  title,  "  The  Nails  of  the  Temple,"  should  designate  the  names  and 
services  of  those  great  men  of  the  past  and  present  generations  to 
whose  labor  and  sacrifices  the  Masonic  Institution  is  chiefly  indebted 
for  its  present  high  position  in  this  country.  The  stanzas  following 
are  but  the  opening  of  the  design  which  now,  it  is  most  likely,  will 
never  be  resumed. 

No  human  wisdom  framed  our  halls, 
No  bodily  sweat  bedews  our  walls ; 
The  utmost  ken  of  mortal  eye 
Fails  its  proportions  to  espy  ; 
Nor  is  it  for  a  mortal's  ear 
Its  songs  at  eve  and  morn  to  hear. 

Our  temple  crowns  no  earthly  hill ; 
The  Turk  profanes  Mount  Sion  still ; 
Siloam  pours  her  hallowed  stream 
For  those  who  spurn  the  sacred  NAME  ; 
Yet  fixed  on  our  unshaken  base 
Is  seen  our  Temple's  resting-place. 

Unnumbered  hearts  and  hopes  prolong 
The  cadence  of  our  votive  song ; 
The  savor  of  our  sacrifice 
Ascends  and  gladdens  up  the  skies, 
Where  BUILDERS  met  from  many  lands 
Rear  up  "  the  House  not  made  with  hands !" 


THE      TEMPLE.  193 

We  would  record  some  fitting  phrase 
Of  those  sublime,  those  mystic  lays ; 
Some  names  of  the  unnumbered  Host 
Else  'neath  the  moss  of  ages  lost ; 
One  episode  in  all  those  cares 
"Whose  story  marks  three  thousand  years. 

AUTHOR  OF  WISDOM,  make  us  wise 
To  apprehend  these  Mysteries ! 
AUTHOR  OP  STRENGTH,  the  power  impart 
To  build  and  cement  from  the  heart ! 
AUTHOR  OP  BEAUTY,  lend  us  grace 
The  hue  to  paint,  the  line  to  trace  1 

The  stones  of  the  foundation 

In  the  Holy  Mountain  lie, 
Brought  from  the  sacred  quarries 

By  the  hand  of  Deity ; 
Each  Block  "the  perfect  angle" 

Fulfills  and  gratifies— 
It  rests  upon  the  level 

Acknowledged  in  the  skies. 

Each  on  its  broadside  graven 

Displays  some  mighty  name ; 
'Tis  daily  called  in  Heaven 

That  roll  of  deathless  fame; 


194  THETKMPLE. 

All  ages,  lands  have  yielded 
Their  honored  names  to  prop — 

A  glorious  substructure — 
And  bear  our  Temple  up. 

In  such  a  sacred  place, 

On  such  a  solid  base, 
Built  on  the  pattern  of  the  PLAN  DIVINE, 

With  time-defying  walls 

With  love-o'erflowing  halls, 
Behold  our  Temple  and  come  view  our  Shrine  I 

The  mind  would  faint  and  fail, 

The  multitudes  to  tell, 
Of  all  the  Ashlars  that  are  here  inwrought ; 

They're  culled  from  every  clime, 

Through  long-revolving  time 
And  each  bears  token  of  the  MASTER-THOUGHT. 

Each  bears  the  impress  of  MAN — 
Such  was  the  wondrous  PLAN, 

Of  man  in  body,  mind  and  heart  complete ; 
Each  fills  a  stated  place 
Of  Wisdom,  Strength,  or  Grace 

By  the  GRAND  MASTER  designate  and  meet. 


Cbottc  of  ,SoI0m0n. 


In  Gibeon  the  LORD  appeared  to  Solomon  in  a  dream  by  night; 
and  God  said,  "  Ask  what  I  shall  give  thee." 

And  Solomon  said,  "  Give  thy  servant  an  understanding  heart  to 
judge  thy  people,  that  I  may  discern  between  good  and  bad." 

And  God  said  unto  him,  "  Behold,  I  have  done  according  to  thy 
words.  Lo,  I  have  given  thee  a  wise  and  discerning  heart  so  that 
there  was  none  like  thee  before  thee,  neither  after  thee  shall  any  arise 
like  unto  thee."—  1  Kings,  iii.,  5-12. 

When  in  the  dreams  of  night  he  lay, 

Fancy-led  through  earth  and  air, 
"Whispered  from  the  heavenly  way, 

The  voice  of  promise  met  his  ear  ; 
Fancy  ceased  his  pulse  to  thrill  — 

Gathered  home  each  earnest  thought  — 
And  his  very  heart  was  still 

Awhile  the  gracious  words  he  caught. 

"  Ask  me  whatsoe'er  thou  wilt, 

Fame,  or  wealth,  or  royal  power  — 
Ask  me,  ask  me,  and  thou  shalt, 

Such  favors  have  as  none  before  !  " 
Silence  through  the  midnight  air  — 

Silence  in  the  thoughtful  breast  — 
"What  of  all  that's  bright  and  fair, 

Appeared  to  youth  and  hope  the  best  ? 


196  THE      WISE      CHOICE      OK      SOLOMON. 

'Twas  no  feeble  tongue  replied, 

While  in  awe  his  pulses  stood ; — 
"  Wealth  and  riches  be  denied, 

But  give  me  WISDOM,  voice  of  God ! 
Give  me  WISDOM  in  the  sight, 

Of  the  people  thou  dost  know ! 
Give  me  OP  THYSELF  THE  LIGHT, 

And  all  the  rest  I  will  forego ! " 

Thus,  oh  Lord,  in  visions  fair, 

When  we  hear  thy  promise-voice, 
Thus  like  him  will  we  declare, 

That  WISDOM  is  our  dearest  choice ! 
Light  of  heaven !  ah,  priceless  boon, 

Guiding  o'er  the  troubled  way, 
What  is  all  an  earthly  sun, 

To  his  celestial,  chosen  ray ! 

Wisdom  hath  her  dwelling  reared* — 

Lo  the  mystic  pillars  seven ! 
Wisdom  for  her  guests  hath  cared, 

And  meat,  and  bread,  and  wine  hath  given 
Turn  we  not,  while  round  us  cry 

Tongues  that  speak  her  mystic  word ; 
They  that  scorn  her  voice  shall  die, 

But  whoso  hear  are  friends  of  GOD. 

*  Proverbs,  9, 1-9. 


An  English  Mason,  whose  name  has  never  been  made  public, 
donated  considerable  sums  of  money  about  the  year  1852,  and  made 
the  Western  Grand  Lodges  his  almoners  for  its  disbursement  in  Ma- 
sonic charities. 

"Written  in  Heaven 

What  he  has  given ! 
Placed  on  the  records  in  letters  of  gold ; 

Read  by  the  spirits, 

Judges  of  merits — 
Some  day  the  name  to  us  all  will  be  told. 


Meantime  let  silence, 

Free  from  all  violence, 
Drop  its  mute  vail  o'er  the  face  of  the  man ; 

Seek  not  to  show  it — 

Strive  not  to  know  it — 
Go  and  do  likewise,  ye  Brothers,  who  can. 

Blest  was  the  offering ; 

Voices  of  suffering 
Hushed  under  sympathy  noble  as  that ; 

Tear-drops  were  trailing — 

Sighs  and  bewailing 
And  tear-drops  and  sorrow  the  orphans  forget. 


198  THE   PERFECT   ASHLARS. 

England,  our  Mother, 

Toward  thee  each  Brother 
Keverently  turns  at  this  noble  emprise ; 

"  This  makes  the  cable 

Holy  and  stable. 
Binding  our  Lodges  forever,"  he  cries. 


f  trfwt 


The  sunbeams,  from  the  Eastern  sky, 
Flash  from  yon  blocks,  exalted  high, 
And  on  their  polished  fronts  proclaim 
The  framer  and  the  builder's  fame. 

Glowing  beneath  the  fervid  noon, 
Yon  marble  dares  the  Southern  sun, 
Yet  tells  that  wall  of  fervid  flame, 
The  framer  and  the  builder's  fame. 

The  chastened  sun,  adown  the  West, 
Speaks  the  same  voice  and  sinks  to  rest; 
No  sad  defect,  no  flaw  to  shame 
The  framer  and  the  builder's  fame. 

Beneath  the  dewy  night,  the  sky 
Lights  up  ten  thousand  lamps  on  high  ; 
Ten  thousand  lamps  unite  to  name 
The  framer  and  the  builder's  fame. 


THE       LAST,      LAST      WORD.  199 

Perfect  in  line,  exact  in  square, 
These  ASHLARS  of  the  Craftsmen  are, 
They  will  to  coming  time  proclaim 
The  framer  and  the  builder's  fame. 


fast,  fast 


There  is  no  form  of  prayer  in  which  so  much  pathos  and  affec- 
tionate yearnings  can  be  conveyed,  as  the  expression  "  farewell."  The 
following  is  accompanied  in  the  recitation  with  appropriate  cere- 
monies : 

The  last,  last  word— oh  let  it  tell, 
The  very  soul  of  love — FARE  WELL. 

FARE  WELL  in  heart,  in  health,  in  store— 

In  going  out — in  coming  in — 

Show  us,  oh  FATHER,  all  BENIGN  ! 
May  man's  respect,  and  woman's  smile, 
And  childhood's  prattle  to  beguile, 

Be  yours,  be  yours  forever  more ! 
By  every  impulse  that  can  swell 
The  loving  heart,  FARE  WELL,  FARE  WELL  I 

FARE  WELL — the  lights  grow  dim — the  tear 

Lingers  and  sparkles  in  the  eye ; 

"  So  mote  it  be  "  I  faintly  hear, 

Winged  on  the  breath  of  answering  sigh ; 


200  THE      LAST,      LAST      WORD. 

It  is  the  voice  of  sympathy, 

And  tells  of  a  FRATERNAL  TIE 
Once,  twice,  and  thrice  about  us  wound, 
When  first  on  Consecrated  ground 
We  walked  the  dark  mysterious  round ; 

By  all  the  secrets  it  doth  tell 

Of  Bonds  and  Links,  and  Love,  FARE  WELL  I 

FARE  WELL — what  other  word  besides 
Conveys  the  spirit  of  GOD'S  Word, 
Around,  above,  beneath  whose  lids, 
We  wove  the  INDISSOLUBLE  CORD  ! 
Had  I  the  tongue  with  power  to  say 
All  that  the  hand  expert  can  tell 
Of  Signs,  and  grips,  and  Mystic  way, 
I  could  but  say,  but  say  FARE  WELL  ! 
I  could  but  say  "  May  God  thus  do 
By  me  should  I  e'er  prove  untrue ! " 
And  my  choked  utterance  would  prove 
How  weak  are  words  to  tell  my  love. 

Then  let  the  hand  speak  what  it  should 
And  will  to  witness  noblest  things ! 

The  bounding  Heart  responds  and  brings 
Its  godlike  powers  to  compass  good ; 
The  answering  Heavens  admit  the  plea 
And  vouch  a  present  DEITY  ! 
Angels  my  loving  wishes  swell, 
And  GOD  himself  proclaims  FARE  WELL  ! 


THE  L1BBAHY 
tJNTTSKSITY  O* 

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